^BB^  <flBwilBL  JBb  JBMBMBfc 


Stewart  Edward  White, 


GIFT  OF 


THE  CLAIM  JUMPERS 


THE  CLAIM  JUMPERS 


A  ROMANCE 


BY 


STEWART   EDWARD  ,WHITE 


NEW  YORK 
GROSSET    &    DUNLAP 

PUBLISHERS 


COPYRIGHT,  1901, 
BY  STEWART  EDWARD  WHITE, 

A II  rights  reserved. 


2Ttfth  ImpreasJor 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PACE 

I. — JIM  LESLIE  WRITES  A  LETTER  i 

II. — THE  STORY-BOOK  WEST 19 

III. — BENNINGTON  HUNTS  FOR  GOLD  AND  FINDS  A 

KISS 32 

IV.— THE  SUN  FAIRY       ...,,.  50 

V. — THE  SPIRIT  MOUNTAIN 70 

VI. — BENNINGTON  AS  A  MAN  OF  BUSINESS       .       .  83 

VII. — THE   MEETING   AT   THE    ROCK  QO 

VIII. — AN   ADVENTURE   IN   THE   NIGHT            .           .           .  IO$ 

IX. — THE   HEAVENS   OPENED Il6 

X. — THE  WORLD   MADE   YOUNG           ....  130 

XI. — AND   HE   DID   EAT 142 

XII. — OLD  Mizzou  RESIGNS 153 

XIII. — THE  SPIRES  OF  STONE 161 

XIV. — THE  PIONEER'S  PICNIC 168 

XV. — THE   GIRL   ON   THE   TRAIN             .           .           .           .  l8o 

XVI. — A   NOON   DINNER            ......  185 

XVII. — NOBLESSE  OBLIGE 199 

XVIII. — THE  CLAIM  JUMPERS 214 

XIX. — BENNINGTON  PROVES  GAME      ....  229 

XX. — MASKS  OFF 250 

XXI. — THE  LAND  OF  VISIONS 260 

XXII. — FLOWER  o'  THE  WORLD 771 


271593 


THE  CLAIM  JUMPERS 


CHAPTER  I 

JIM    LESLIE    WRITES    A    LETTER 

IN  a  fifth-story  sitting  room  of  a  New  York 
boarding  house  four  youths  were  holding  a 
discussion.  The  sitting  room  was  large  and 
square,  and  in  the  wildest  disorder,  which  was, 
however,  sublimated  into  a  certain  system  by 
an  illuminated  device  to  the  effect  that  one 
should  "  Have  a  Place  for  Everything,  and 
then  there'll  be  one  Place  you  won't  have  to 
look/'  Easels  and  artists'  materials  thrust 
back  to  the  wall  sufficiently  advertised  the  art 
student,  and  perhaps  explained  the  untidiness. 

Two  of  the  occupants  of  the  room,  curled 
up  on  elevated  window  ledges,  were  emitting 
clouds  of  tobacco  smoke  and  nursing  their 
knees;  the  other  two,  naked  to  the  waist,  sat 
on  a  couple  of  ordinary  bedroom  mattresses 
deposited  carefully  in  the  vacant  centre  of  the 


2  .  THE  CLAIM  JUMPERS 

apartment.  They  were  eager,  alert-looking 
young  men,  well-muscled,  curly  of  hair,  and 
possessing  in  common  an  unabashed  carriage 
of  the  head  which,  more  plainly  than  any  mere 
facial  resemblance,  proved  them  brothers. 
They,  too,  were  nursing  their  knees. 

"  He  must  be  an  unadorned  ass/'  remarked 
one  of  the  occupants  of  the  window  seats,  in 
answer  to  some  previous  statement. 

"  He  is  not,"  categorically  denied  a  youth 
of  the  mattresses.  "  My  dear  Hench,  you 
make  no  distinctions.  I've  been  talking  about 
the  boy's  people  and  his  bringing  up  and  the 
way  he  acts,  whereupon  you  fly  off  on  a  tan 
gent  and  coolly  conclude  things  about  the  boy 
himself.  It  is  not  only  unkind,  but  stupid." 

Hench  laughed.  "  You  amuse  me,  Jeems," 
said  he;  "elucidate." 

Jeems  let  go  his  knees.  The  upper  part  of 
his  body,  thus  deprived  of  support,  fell  back 
ward  on  the  mattress.  He  then  clasped  his 
hands  behind  his  head,  and  stared  at  the  ceiling. 

"  Listen,  ye  multitude,"  he  began;  "  I'm 
an  artist.  So  are  you.  I'm  also  a  philoso 
pher.  You  are  not.  Therefore,  I'll  deign  to 


JIM    LESLIE   WRITES   A   LETTER  3 

instruct  you.  Ben  de  Laney  has  a  father  and 
a  mother.  The  father  is  pompous,  conceited, 
and  a  bore.  The  mother  is  pompous,  con 
ceited,  and  a  bore.  The  father  uses  language 
of  whose  absolutely  vapid  correctness  Addison 
would  have  been  proud.  So  does  the  mother, 
unless  she  forgets,  in  which  case  the  old  man 
calls  her  down  hard.  They  are  rich  and  of  a 
good  social  position.  The  latter  worries  them, 
because  they  have  to  keep  up  its  dignity." 

"  They  succeed,"  interrupted  the  other 
brother  fervently,  "  they  succeed.  I  dined 
there  once.  After  that  I  went  around  to  the 
waxworks  to  get  cheered  up  a  bit." 

"  Quite  so,  Bertie,"  replied  the  philoso 
pher;  "but  you  interrupted  me  just  before  I 
got  to  my  point.  The  poor  old  creatures  had 
been  married  many  years  before  Bennie  came 
to  cheer  them  up.  Naturally,  Bennie  has  been 
the  whole  thing  ever  since.  He  is  allowed  a 
few  privileges,  but  always  under  the  best  aus 
pices.  The  rest  of  the  time  he  stays  at  home, 
is  told  what  or  what  not  a  gentleman  should 
do,  and  is  instructed  in  the  genealogy  of  the 
de  Laneys." 


2  THE  CLAIM  JUMPERS 

apartment.  They  were  eager,  alert-looking 
young  men,  well-muscled,  curly  of  hair,  and 
possessing  in  common  an  unabashed  carriage 
of  the  head  which,  more  plainly  than  any  mere 
facial  resemblance,  proved  them  brothers. 
They,  too,  were  nursing  their  knees. 

"  He  must  be  an  unadorned  ass,"  remarked 
one  of  the  occupants  of  the  window  seats,  in 
answer  to  some  previous  statement. 

"  He  is  not,"  categorically  denied  a  youth 
of  the  mattresses.  "  My  dear  Hench,  you 
make  no  distinctions.  I've  been  talking  about 
the  boy's  people  and  his  bringing  up  and  the 
way  he  acts,  whereupon  you  fly  off  on  a  tan 
gent  and  coolly  conclude  things  about  the  boy 
himself.  It  is  not  only  unkind,  but  stupid." 

Hench  laughed.  "  You  amuse  me,  Jeems," 
said  he;  "elucidate." 

Jeems  let  go  his  knees.  The  upper  part  of 
his  body,  thus  deprived  of  support,  fell  back 
ward  on  the  mattress.  He  then  clasped  his 
hands  behind  his  head,  and  stared  at  the  ceiling. 

"  Listen,  ye  multitude,"  he  began;  "  I'm 
an  artist.  So  are  you.  I'm  also  a  philoso 
pher.  You  are  not.  Therefore,  I'll  deign  to 


JIM    LESLIE   WRITES   A   LETTER  3 

instruct  you.  Ben  de  Laney  has  a  father  and 
a  mother.  The  father  is  pompous,  conceited, 
and  a  bore.  The  mother  is  pompous,  con 
ceited,  and  a  bore.  The  father  uses  language 
of  whose  absolutely  vapid  correctness  Addison 
would  have  been  proud.  So  does  the  mother, 
unless  she  forgets,  in  which  case  the  old  man 
calls  her  down  hard.  They  are  rich  and  of  a 
good  social  position.  The  latter  worries  them, 
because  they  have  to  keep  up  its  dignity." 

"  They  succeed,"  interrupted  the  other 
brother  fervently,  "  they  succeed.  I  dined 
there  once.  After  that  I  went  around  to  the 
waxworks  to  get  cheered  up  a  bit." 

"  Quite  so,  Bertie,"  replied  the  philoso 
pher;  "but  you  interrupted  me  just  before  I 
got  to  my  point.  The  poor  old  creatures  had 
been  married  many  years  before  Bennie  came 
to  cheer  them  up.  Naturally,  Bennie  has  been 
the  whole  thing  ever  since.  He  is  allowed  a 
few  privileges,  but  always  under  the  best  aus 
pices.  The  rest  of  the  time  he  stays  at  home, 
is  told  what  or  what  not  a  gentleman  should 
do,  and  is  instructed  in  the  genealogy  of  the 
de  Laneys." 


4  THE  CLAIM  JUMPERS 

"  The  mother  is  always  impressing  him 
with  the  fact  that  he  is  a  de  Laney  on  both 
sides,"  interpolated  Bert. 

"  Important,  if  true,  as  the  newspapers 
say,"  remarked  the  other  young  man  on  the 
window  ledge.  "  What  constitutes  a  de 
Laney?  " 

"  Hereditary  lack  of  humour,  Beck,  my 
boy.  Well,  the  result  is  that  poor  Bennie  is  a 

sort    of "    the    speaker    hesitated    for    his 

word. 

"  '  Willy  boy/  "  suggested  Beck,  mildly. 

"  Something  of  the  sort,  but  not  exactly. 
A  '  willy  boy  '  never  has  ideas.  Bennie  has." 

"  Such  as?  " 

"  Well,  for  one  thing,  he  wants  to  get  away. 
He  doesn't  seem  quite  content  with  his  job  of 
idle  aristocrat.  I  believe  he's  been  pestering 
the  old  man  to  send  him  West.  Old  man 
doesn't  approve." 

"  '  That  the  fine  bloom  of  culture  will  be 
come  rubbed  off  in  the  contact  with  rude, 
rough  men,  seems  to  me  inevitable,'  "  mim 
icked  Bert  in  pedantic  tones,  "  '  unless  a  firm 
sense  of  personal  dignity  and  an  equally  firm 


JIM    LESLIE   WRITES   A   LETTER  5 

eense  of  our  obligations  to  more  refined 
though  absent  friends  hedges  us  about  with 
adequate  safeguards/  ' 

The  four  laughed.  "  That's  his  style,  sure 
enough,"  Jim  agreed. 

"  What  does  he  want  to  do  West?  "  asked 
Hench. 

"  He  doesn't  know.  Write  a  book,  I  be 
lieve,  or  something  of  that  sort.  But  he  isn't 
an  ass.  He  has  a  lot  of  good  stuff  in  him, 
only  it  will  never  get  a  chance,  fixed  the  way 
he  is  now." 

A  silence  fell,  which  was  broken  at  last  by 
Bert. 

"Come,  Jeems,"  he  suggested;  "here 
we've  taken  up  Hench's  valuable  idea,  but  are 
no  farther  with  it." 

"  True,"  said  Jeems. 

He  rolled  over  on  his  hands  and  knees. 
Bert  took  up  a  similar  position  by  his 
side. 

"Go!"  shouted  Hench  from  the  window 
ledge. 

At  the  word,  the  two  on  the  mattress  turned 
and  grappled  each  other  fiercely,  half  rising 


6  THE  CLAIM  JUMPERS 

to  their  feet  in  the  strenuousness  of  endeav 
our.  Jeems  tried  frantically  for  a  half-Nelson. 
While  preventing-  it  the  wily  Bert  awaited 
his  chance  for  a  hammer-lock.  In  the  mo 
ment  of  indecision  as  to  which  would  succeed 
in  his  charitable  design,  a  knock  on  the  door 
put  an  end  to  hostilities.  The  gladiators  sat 
upright  and  panted. 

A  young  man  stepped  bashfully  into  the 
room  and  closed  the  door  behind  him. 

The  newcomer  was  a  clean-cut  young  fel 
low,  of  perhaps  twenty-two  years  of  age,  with 
regular  features,  brown  eyes,  straight  hair,  and 
sensitive  lips.  He  was  exceedingly  well- 
dressed.  A  moment's  pause  followed  his  ap 
pearance.  Then: 

"  Why,  it's  our  old  friend,  the  kid!  "  cried 
Jeems. 

"  Don't    let    me    interrupt,"    begged    the  ' 
youth  diffidently. 

"  No  interruption.  End  of  round  one/' 
panted  Jeems.  "  Glad  you  came.  Bertie, 
here,  was  twisting  my  delicate  clavicle  most 
cruelly.  Know  Hench  and  Beck  there?  " 

De  Laney  bowed  to  the  young  men  in  the 


JIM    LESLIE   WRITES  A   LETTER  7 

window,  who  removed  their  pipes  from  their 
mouths  and  grinned  amiably. 

"  This,  gentlemen,"  explained  Jeems,  with 
out  changing  his  position,  "  is  Mr.  Bennie 
de  Laney  on  both  sides.  It  is  extremely  for 
tunate  for  Mr.  de  Laney  that  he  is  a  de  Laney 
on  both  sides,  for  otherwise  he  would  be  lop 
sided." 

"  You  will  find  a  seat,  Mr.  de  Laney,  in  the 
adjoining  bedroom,"  said  the  first,  with  great 
politeness;  "and  if  you  don't  care  to  go  in 
there,  you  will  stand  yourself  in  the  corner  by 
that  easel  until  the  conclusion  of  this  little  dis 
cussion  between  Jeems  and  myself. — Jeems, 
will  you  kindly  state  the  merits  of  the  discus 
sion  to  the  gentleman?  I'm  out  of  brea.th." 

Jeems  kindly  would. 

"  Bert  and  I  have,  for  the  last  few  weeks, 
been  obeying  the  parting  commands  of  our 
dear  mother.  '  Boys,'  said  she,  with  tears  in 
her  eyes,  '  Boys,  always  take  care  of  one  an 
other.'  So  each  evening  I  have  tried  to  tuck 
Bertie  in  his  little  bed,  and  Bertie,  with  equal 
enthusiasm,  has  attempted  to  tuck  me  in.  It 
has  been  hard  on  pyjamas,  bed  springs,  and  the 


8  THE   CLAIM  JUMPERS 

temper  of  the  Lady  with  the  Pi  mo  who  resides 
in  the  apartments  immediately  beneath;  so,  at 
the  wise  suggestion  of  our  friends  in  the  win 
dows  " — he  waved  a  graceful  hand  toward 
them,  and  they  gravely  bowed  acknowledg 
ment — "  we  are  now  engaged  in  deciding  the 
matter  Graeco-Roman.  The  winner  '  tucks/ 
Come  on,  Bertie." 

The  two  again  took  position  side  by  side, 
on  their  hands  and  knees,  while  Mr.  Hench  ex 
plained  to  de  Laney  that  this  method  of  be 
ginning  the  bout  was  necessary,  because  the 
limited  area  of  the  mat  precluded  flying  falls. 
At  a  signal  from  Mr.  Beck,  they  turned  and 
grappled,  Jeems,  by  the  grace  of  Providence, 
on  top.  In  the  course  of  the  combat  it  often 
happened  that  the  two  mattresses  would  slide 
apart.  The  contestants,  suspending  their 
struggles,  would  then  try  to  kick  them  to 
gether  again  without  releasing  the  advantage 
of  their  holds.  The  noise  was  beautiful.  To 
de  Laney,  strong  in  maternal  admonitions  as  to 
proper  deportment,  it  was  all  new  and  stirring, 
and  quite  without  precedent.  He  applauded 
excitedly,  and  made  as  much  racket  as  the  rest 


JIM   LESLIE   WRITES   A   LETTER  9 

A  sudden  and  vigorous  knock  for  the  second 
time  put  an  end  to  hostilities.  The  wrestlers 
again  sat  bolt  upright  on  the  mattresses,  and 
listened. 

"  Gentlemen,"  cried  an  irritated  German 
voice,  "  there  is  a  lady  schleeping  on  the  next 
floor!  " 

"Karl,  Karl!"  called  one  of  the  irrepres 
sibles,  "  can  I  never  teach  you  to  be  accurate! 
No  lady  could  possibly  be  sleeping  anywhere 
in  the  building." 

He  arose  from  the  mattress  and  shook 
himself. 

"  Jeems,"  he  continued  sadly,  "  the  world 
is  against  true  virtue.  Our  dear  mother's 
wishes  can  not  be  respected." 

De  Laney  came  out  of  his  corner. 

"  Fellows,"  he  cried  with  enthusiasm,  "  I 
want  you  to  come  up  and  stay  all  night  with 
me  some  time,  so  mother  can  see  that  gentle 
men  can  make  a  noise!  " 

Bertie  sat  down  suddenly  and  shrieked. 
Jeems  rolled  over  and  over,  clutching  small 
feathers  from  the  mattress  in  the  agony  of 
his  delight,  while  the  clothed  youths  con- 


IQ  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

tented  themselves  with  amused  but  gurgling 
chuckles. 

"  Bennie,  my  boy,"  gasped  Jeems,  at  last, 
"you'll  be  the  death  of  me!  O  Lord!  O 
Lord!  You  unfortunate  infant!  You  shall 
come  here  and  have  a  drum  to  pound;  yes, 
you  shall."  He  tottered  weakly  to  his  feet. 
"  Come,  Bertie,  let  us  go  get  dressed." 

The  two  disappeared  into  the  bedroom, 
leaving  de  Laney  uncomfortably  alone  with 
the  occupants  of  the  window  ledge. 

The  young  fellow  walked  awkwardly  across 
the  room  and  sat  down  on  a  partly  empty 
chair,  not  because  he  preferred  sitting  to  stand 
ing,  but  in  order  to  give  himself  time  to  re 
cover  from  his  embarrassment. 

The  sort  of  chaffing  to  which  he  had  just 
been  subjected  was  direct  and  brutal;  it 
touched  all  his  tender  spots — the  very  spots 
wherein  he  realized  the  intensest  soreness  of 
his  deficiencies,  and  about  which,  therefore,  he 
was  the  most  sensitive — yet,  somehow,  he  liked 
It.  This  was  because  the  Leslie  boys  meant 
to  him  everything  free  and  young  that  he  had 
missed  in  the  precise  atmosphere  of  his  own 


JIM   LESLIE   WRITES  A   LETTER  IX 

home,  and  so  he  admired  them  and  stood  in 
delightful  inferiority  to  them  in  spite  of  his 
wealth  and  position.  He  would  have  given 
anything  he  owned  to  have  felt  himself  one  of 
their  sort;  but,  failing  that,  the  next  best  thing 
was  to  possess  their  intimacy.  Of  this  inti 
macy  chaffing  was  a  gauge.  Bennington 
Clarence  de  Laney  always  glowed  at  heart 
when  they  rubbed  his  fur  the  wrong  way,  for 
it  showed  that  they  felt  they  knew  him  well 
enough  to  do  so.  And  in  this  there  was  some 
thing  just  a  little  pathetic. 

Bennington  held  to  the  society  standpoint 
with  men,  so  he  thought  he  must  keep  up  a 
conversation.  He  did  so.  It  was  laboured. 
Bennington  thought  of  things  to  say  about  Art, 
the  Theatre,  and  Books.  Hench  and  Beck 
looked  at  each  other  from  time  to  time. 

Finally  the  door  opened,  and,  to  the  relief 
of  all,  two  sweatered  and  white-ducked  indi 
viduals  appeared. 

"  And  now,  Jeems,  we'll  smoke  the  pipe  of 
peace/'  suggested  Bert,  diving  for  the  mantel 
and  the  pipe  rack. 

"  Correct,  my  boy,"  responded  Jeems,  do- 


12  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

ing  likewise.  They  lit  up,  and  turned  with 
simultaneous  interest  to  their  latest  caller. 

"  And  how  is  the  proud  plutocrat? "  in 
quired  Bert;  "  and  how  did  he  contrive  to  get 
leave  to  visit  us  rude  and  vulgar  persons?  " 

The  Leslies  had  called  at  the  de  Laneys', 
and,  as  Bert  said,  had  dined  there  once.  They 
recognised  their  status,  and  rejoiced  therein. 

"  He  is  calling  on  the  minister,"  explained 
Jeems  for  him.  "  Bennington,  my  son,  you'll 
get  caught  at  that  some  day,  as  sure  as  shoot 
ing.  If  your  mamma  ever  found  out  that,  in 
stead  of  talking  society-religion  to  old  Garnett, 
you  were  revelling  in  this  awful  dissipation, 
you'd  have  to  go  abroad  again." 

"What  did  you  call  him?"    inquired  Bert. 

"  Call  who?  " 

"  Him  —  Bennie  —  what  was  that  full 
name?  " 

"  Bennington." 

"  Great  Scott!  and  here  I've  been  thinking 
all  the  time  he  was  plain  Benjamin!  Tell  us 
about  it,  my  boy.  What  is  it?  It  sounds  like 
a  battle  of  the  Revolution.  Is  it  a  battle  of  the 
Revolution?  Just  to  think  that  all  this  time 


JIM   LESLIE   WRITES   A   LETTER  ,3 

we  have  been  entertaining  unawares  a  real  hve 
battle!" 

De  Laney  grinned,  half-embarrassed  as 
usual. 

"  It's  a  family  name,"  said  he.  "  It's  the 
name  of  an  ancestor." 

He  never  knew  whether  or  not  these  viva 
cious  youths  really  desired  the  varied  informa 
tion  they  demanded. 

The  Leslies  looked  upon  him  with  awe. 

"  You  don't  mean  to  tell  me,"  said  Bertie, 
"that  you  are  a  Bennington!  Well,  well! 
This  is  a  small  world!  We  will  celebrate  the 
discovery."  He  walked  to  the  door  and 
touched  a  bell  five  times.  "  Beautiful  sys 
tem,"  he  explained.  "  In  a  moment  Karl  will 
appear  with  five  beers.  This  arrangement  is 
possible  because  never,  in  any  circumstances, 
do  we  ring  for  anything  but  beer." 

The  beer  came.  Two  steins,  two  glasses, 
and  a  carefully  scrubbed  shaving  mug  were 
pressed  into  service.  After  the  excitement  of 
finding  all  these  things  had  died,  and  the  five 
men  were  grouped  about  the  place  in  un 
graceful  but  comfortable  attitudes,  Banning- 


14  THE  CLAIM  JUMPERS 

ton  bid  for  the  sympathy  he  had  sought  in 
this  visit. 

"  Fellows,"  said  he,  "  I've  something  to 
tell  you." 

"  Let  her  flicker,"  said  Jim. 

"  I'm  going  away  next  week.  It's  all  set 
tled." 

"  Bar  Harbour,  Trouville,  Paris,  or  Berlin?  " 

"  None  of  them.     I'm  going  West." 

"  Santa  Barbara,  Los  Angeles,  San  Diego, 
or  Monterey?  " 

"  None  of  them.  I'm  going  to  the  real 
West.  I'm  going  to  a  mining  camp." 

The  Leslies  straightened  their  backbones. 

"  Don't  spring  things  on  us  that  way,"  re 
proved  Bertie  severely;  "  you'll  give  us  heart 
disease.  Now  repeat  softly." 

"  I  am  going  to  a  mining  camp,"  obeyed 
Bennington,  a  little  shamefacedly. 

"With  whom?" 

"  Alone." 

This  time  the  Leslies  sprang  quite  to  their 
feet. 

"By  the  Great  Horn  Spoon,  man!"  cried 
Jim.  "Alone!  No  chaperon!  Good  Lord  I" 


JIM    LESLIE   WRITES  A   LETTER  I5 

"  Yes,"  said  Bennington,  "  I've  always 
wanted  to  go  West.  I  want  to  write,  and  I'm 
sure,  in  that  great,  free  country,  I'll  get  a 
chance  for  development.  I  had  to  work  hard 
to  induce  father  and  mother  to  consent,  but 
4  it's  done  now,  and  I  leave  next  week.  Father 
procured  me  a  position  out  there  in  one  of  the 
camps.  I'm  to  be  local  treasurer,  or  something 
like  that;  I'm  not  quite  sure,  you  see,  for  I 
haven't  talked  with  Bishop  yet.  I  go  to  his 
office  for  directions  to-morrow." 

At  the  mention  of  Bishop  the  Leslies 
glanced  at  each  other  behind  the  young  man's 
back. 

"  Bishop?  "  repeated  Jim.  "  Where's  your 
job  located?" 

"  In  the  Black  Hills  of  South  Dakota,  some 
where  near  a  little  place  called  Spanish  Gulch." 

This  time  the  Leslies  winked  at  each  other. 

"  It's  a  nice  country,"  commented  Bert 
vaguely;  "  I've  been  there." 

"  Oh,  have  you?  "  cried  the  young  man. 
"  What's  it  like?  " 

"  Hills,  pines,  log  houses,  good  hunting — 
oh,  it's  Western  enough." 


36  THE  CLAIM  JUMPERS 

A  clock  struck  in  a  church  tower  outside. 
In  spite  of  himself,  Bennington  started. 

"  Better  run  along  home,"  laughed  Jim; 
"  your  mamma  will  be  angry." 

To  prove  that  this  consideration  carried  no 
weight,  Bennington  stayed  ten  minutes  longer. 
Then  he  descended  the  five  flights  of  stairs  de 
liberately  enough,  but  once  out  of  earshot  of 
his  friends,  he  ran  several  blocks.  Before  go 
ing  into  the  house  he  took  off  his  shoes.  In 
spite  of  the  precaution,  his  mother  called  to  him 
as  he  passed  her  room.  It  was  half  past  ten. 

Beck  and  Hench  kicked  de  Laney's  chair 
aside,  and  drew  up  more  comfortably  before  the 
fire;  but  James  would  have  none  of  it.  He 
seemed  to  be  excited. 

"No,"  he  vetoed  decidedly.  "You  fel 
lows  have  got  to  get  out!  I've  got  something 
to  do,  and  I  can't  be  bothered." 

The  visitors  grumbled.  "  There's  true  hos 
pitality  for  you,"  objected  they;  "turn  your 
best  friends  out  into  the  cold  world!  I  like 
that!" 

"  Sorry,  boys,"  insisted  James,  unmoved. 
"  Got  an  inspiration.  Get  out!  Vamoose!  " 


JIM   LESLIE   WRITES  A  LETTER  \j 

They  went,  grumbling  loudly  down  the 
length  of  the  stairs,  to  the  disgust  of  the  Lady 
with  the  Piano  on  the  floor  below. 

"  What're  you  up  to,  anyway,  Jimmie?  " 
inquired  the  brother  with  some  curiosity, 

James  had  swept  a  space  clear  on  the  table, 
and  was  arranging  some  stationery. 

"  Don't  you  care,"  he  replied;  "  you  just  sit 
down  and  read  your  little  Omar  for  a  while." 

He  plunged  into  the  labours  of  composi 
tion,  and  Bert  sat  smoking  meditatively.  Af 
ter  some  moments  the  writer  passed  a  letter 
over  to  the  smoker. 

"  Think  it'll  do?  "   he  inquired. 

Bert  read  the  letter  through  carefully. 

"  Jeems,"  said  he,  after  due  deliberation, 
"Jeems,  you're  a  blooming  genius." 

James  stamped  the  envelope. 

"  I'll  mail  it  for  you  when  I  go  out  in  the 
morning,"  Bert  suggested. 

"  Not  on  your  daily  bread,  sonny.  It  is 
posted  now  by  my  own  hand.  We  won't  take 
any  chances  on  this  layout,  and  that  I  can  tell 
you." 

He  tramped  down  four  flights  and  to  the 


!3  THE  CLAIM  JUMPERS 

corner,  although  it  was  midnight  and  bitter 
cold.  Then,  with  a  seraphic  grin  on  his  coun 
tenance,  he  went  to  bed  and  slept  the  sleep  of 
the  just. 

The  envelope  was  addressed  to  a  Mr.  James 
Fay,  Spanish  Gulch,  South  Dakota. 


CHAPTER    II 

THE   STORY-BOOK   WEST 

WHEN  a  man  is  twenty-one,  and  has  had 
no  experience,  and  graduates  from  a  small  col 
lege  where  he  roomed  alone  in  splendour,  and 
possesses  a  gift  of  words  and  a  certain  delight 
in  reading,  and  is  thrown  into  new  and,  to  him, 
romantic  surroundings — when  all  these  stars  of 
chance  cross  their  orbits,  he  begins  to  write  a 
novel.  The  novel  never  has  anything  to  do 
with  the  aforesaid  new  and  romantic  surround 
ings;  neither  has  it  the  faintest  connection  with 
anything  the  author  has  ever  seen.  That  would 
limit  his  imagination. 

Once  he  was  well  settled  in  his  new  home, 
and  the  first  excitement  of  novel  impressions 
had  worn  off,  Bennington  de  Laney  began  to 
write  regularly  three  hours  a  day.  He  did  his 
scribbling  writh  a  fountain  pen,  on  typewriter 
paper,  and  left  a  broad  right-hand  margin,  just 
as  he  had  seen  Brooks  do.  In  it  he  experi- 


20  THE  CLAIM  JUMPERS 

enced,  above  all,  a  delightful  feeling  of  power. 
He  enjoyed  to  the  full  his  ability  to  swing  gor 
geous  involved  sentences,  phrase  after  phrase, 
down  the  long  arc  of  rhetoric,  without  a  pause, 
without  a  quiver,  until  they  rushed  unhasting 
up  the  other  slope  to  end  in  beautiful  words, 
polysyllabic,  but  with  just  the  right  number  of 
syllables.  Interspersed  were  short  sentences. 
He  counted  the  words  in  one  or  the  other  of 
these  two  sorts,  carefully  noting  the  relations 
they  bore  to  each  other.  On  occasions  he  de 
spaired  because  they  did  not  bear  the  right  re 
lations.  And  he  also  dragged  out,  squirming, 
the  Anglo-Saxon  and  Latin  derivations,  and 
set  them  up  in  a  row  that  he  might  observe 
their  respective  numbers.  He  was  uneasily 
conscious  that  he  ought,  in  the  dread  of  college 
anathema,  to  use  the  former,  but  he  loved  the 
many-syllabled  crash  or  modulated  music  of 
the  latter.  Also,  there  was  the  question  of  get 
ting  variety  into  his  paragraph  lengths.  It  was 
all  excellent  practice. 

And  yet  this  technique,  absorbing  as  it  was, 
counted  as  nothing  in  comparison  with  the  sub 
ject-matter. 


THE   STORY-BOOK  WEST  2I 

The  method  was  talent;  the  subject-matter 
was  Genius;  and  Genius  had  evolved  an  Idea 
which  no  one  had  ever  thought  of  before 
— something  brand  new  under  the  sun.  It 
goes  without  saying  that  the  Idea  symbolized 
a  great  Truth.  One  department,  the  more  im 
personal,  of  Bennington's  critical  faculty,  as 
sured  him  that  the  Idea  would  take  rank  with 
the  Ideas  of  Plato  and  Emerson.  Emerson, 
Bennington  worshipped.  Plato  he  also  wor 
shipped — because  Emerson  told  him  to.  He 
had  never  read  Plato  himself.  The  other,  the 
more  personal  and  modest,  however,  had  per 
force  to  doubt  this,  not  because  it  doubted  the 
Idea,  but  because  Bennington  was  not  natu 
rally  conceited. 

To  settle  the  discrepancy  he  began  to 
write.  He  laid  the  scene  in  Arabia  and  de 
cided  to  call  it  Alms:  A  Romance  of  all  Time, 
because  he  liked  the  smooth,  easy  flow  of  the 
syllables. 

The  consciousness  that  he  could  do  all  this 
sugar-coated  his  Wild  Western  experiences, 
which  otherwise  might  have  been  a  little 
disagreeable.  He  could  comfort  himself 


22  THE  CLAIM   JUMPERS 

with  the  reflection  that  he  was  superior,  if 
ridiculous. 

In  spots,  he  was  certainly  the  latter.  The 
locality  into  which  his  destinies  had  led  him  lay 
in  the  tumultuous  centre  of  the  Hills,  about 
thirty  miles  from  Custer  and  ten  from  Hill 
City.  Spanish  Gulch  was  three  miles  down  the 
draw.  The  Holy  Smoke  mine,  to  which  Ben- 
nington  was  accredited,  he  found  to  consist  of 
a  hole  in  the  ground,  of  unsounded  depth,  two 
log  structures,  and  a  chicken  coop.  The  log 
structures  resembled  those  he  had  read  about. 
In  one  of  them  lived  Arthur  and  his  wife.  The 
wife  did  the  cooking.  Arthur  did  nothing  at 
all  but  sit  in  the  shade  and  smoke  a  pipe,  and 
this  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  he  did  not  look  like 
a  loafer.  He  had  no  official  connection  with 
the  place,  except  that  of  husband  to  Mrs. 
Arthur.  The  other  member  of  the  community 
was  Davidson,  alias  Old  Mizzou. 

The  latter  was  cordial  and  voluble.  As  he 
was  blessed  with  a  long  white  beard  of  the  pa 
triarchal  type,  he  inspired  confidence.  He 
used  exclusively  the  present  tense  and  chewed 
tobacco.  He  also  played  interminable  crib' 


THE   STORY-BOOK   WEST  23 

bage.  Likewise  he  talked.  The  latter  was 
his  strong  point.  Bennington  found  that  with 
in  two  days  of  his  arrival  he  knew  all  about 
the  company's  business  without  having  proved 
the  necessity  of  stirring  foot  on  his  own  be 
half.  The  claims  were  not  worth  much,  ac 
cording  to  Old  Mizzon.  The  company  had 
been  cheated.  They  would  find  it  out  some 
day.  None  of  the  ore  assayed  very  high.  For 
his  part  he  did  not  see  why  they  even  did  assess 
ment  work.  Bennington  was  to  look  after  the 
latter?  All  in  good  time.  You  know  you  had 
until  the  end  of  the  year  to  do  it.  What  else 
was  there  to  do?  Nothing  much.  The  pres 
ent  holders  had  come  into  the  property  on  a 
foreclosed  mortgage,  and  weren't  doing  any 
thing  to  develop  it  yet.  Did  Bennington 
know  of  their  plans?  No?  Well,  it  looked 
as  though  the  two  of  them  were  to  have  a 
pretty  easy  time  of  it,  didn't  it? 

Old  Mizzou  tried,  by  adroit  questioning,  to 
find  out  just  why  de  Laney  had  been  sent  West. 
There  was,  in  reality,  not  enough  to  keep  one 
man  busy,  and  surely  Old  Mizzou  considered 
himself  quite  competent  to  attend  to  that. 


24  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

Finally,  he  concluded  that  it  must  be  to  watch 
him — Old  Mizzou.  Acting  on  that  suppo 
sition,  he  tried  a  new  tack. 

For  two  delicious  hours  he  showed  up,  to 
his  own  satisfaction,  Bennington's  ignorance 
of  mining.  That  was  an  easy  enough  task. 
Bennington  did  not  even  know  what  country- 
rock  was.  All  he  succeeded  in  eliciting  con 
firmed  him  in  the  impression  that  de  Laney 
was  sent  to  spy  on  him.  But  why  de  Laney? 
Old  Mizzou  wagged  his  gray  beard.  And  why 
spy  on  him?  What  could  the  company  want 
to  know?  He  gave  it  up.  One  thing  alone 
was  clear:  this  young  man's  understanding  of 
his  duties  was  very  simple.  Bennington  im 
agined  he  was  expected  to  see  certain  assess 
ment  work  done  (whatever  that  was),  and  was 
to  find  out  what  he  could  about  the  value  of  the 
property. 

As  a  matter  of  sedulously  concealed  truth, 
he  was  really  expected  to  do  nothing  at  all. 
The  place  had  been  made  for  him  through 
Mr.  de  Laney's  influence,  because  he  wanted 
to  go  West. 

"  Now,  my  boy,"  Bishop,  the  mining  capi- 


THE  STORY-BOOK   WEST  25 

talist,  had  said,  when  Bennington  had  visited 
him  in  his  New  York  office,  "  do  you  know 
anything  about  mining?  " 

"  No,  sir,"  Bennington  replied. 

"Well,  that  doesn't  matter  much.  We 
don't  expect  to  do  anything  in  the  way  of  de 
velopment.  The  case,  briefly,  is  this:  We've 
bought  this  busted  proposition  of  the  people 
who  were  handling  it,  and  have  assumed  their 
debt.  They  didn't  run  it  right.  They  had  a 
sort  of  a  wildcat  individual  in  charge  of  the 
thing,  and  he  got  contracts  for  sinking  shafts 
with  all  the  turtlebacks  out  there,  and  then 
didn't  pay  for  them.  Now,  what  we  want  you 
to  do  is  this:  First  of  all,  you're  to  take 
charge  financially  at  that  end  of  the  line.  That 
means  paying  the  local  debts  as  we  send  you 
the  money,  and  looking  after  whatever  ex 
penditures  may  become  necessary.  Then 
you'll  have  to  attend  to  the  assessment  work. 
Do  you  know  what  assessment  work  is?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Well,  in  order  to  hold  the  various  claims 
legally,  the  owners  have  to  do  one  hundred  dol 
lars'  worth  of  work  a  year  on  each  claim.  If 


26  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

the  work  isn't  done,  the  claims  can  be  '  jumped/ 
You'll  have  to  hire  the  men,  buy  the  supplies, 
and  see  that  the  full  amount  is  done.  We  have 
a  man  out  there  named  Davidson.  You  can 
rely  on  him,  and  he'll  help  you  out  in  all  prac 
tical  matters.  He's  a  good  enough  practical 
miner,  but  he's  useless  in  bossing  a  job  or  hand 
ling  money.  Between  you,  you  ought  to  get 
along." 

"  I'll  try,  anyway." 

"  That's  right.  Then,  another  thing.  You 
can  put  in  your  spare  time  investigating  what 
the  thing  is  worth.  I  don't  expect  much  from 
you  in  that  respect,  for  you  haven't  had  enough 
experience  ;  but  do  the  best  you  can.  It'll  be 
good  practice,  anyway.  Hunt  up  Davidson; 
go  over  all  the  claims;  find  out  how  the  lead 
runs,  and  how  it  holds  out;  get  samples  and 
ship  them  to  me;  investigate  everything  you 
can,  and  don't  be  afraid  to  write  when  you're 
stuck." 

In  other  words,  Bennington  was  to  hold 
the  ends  of  the  reins  while  some  one  else  drove. 
But  he  did  not  know  that.  He  felt  his  respon 
sibility. 


THE   STORY-BOOK   WEST  27 

As  to  the  assessment  work,  Old  Mizzou  had 
already  assured  him  there  was  no  immediate 
hurry;  men  were  cheaper  in  the  fall.  As  to 
investigating,  he  started  in  on  that  at  once. 
He  and  Davidson  climbed  down  shafts,  and 
broke  off  ore,  and  worked  the  gold  pan.  It 
was  fun. 

In  the  morning  Bennington  decided  to 
work  from  seven  until  ten  on  Aliris.  Then  for 
three  hours  he  and  Old  Mizzou  prospected.  In 
the  afternoon  the  young  man  took  a  vacation 
and  hunted  Wild  Western  adventures. 

It  may  as  well  be  remarked  here  that  Ben 
nington  knew  all  about  the  West  before  he  left 
home.  Until  this  excursion  he  had  never  even 
crossed  the  Alleghanies,  but  he  thought  he  ap 
preciated  the  conditions  thoroughly.  This  was 
because  he  was  young.  He  could  close  his 
eyes  and  see  the  cowboys  scouring  the  plain. 
As  a  parenthesis  it  should  be  noted  that  cow 
boys  always  scour  the  plain,  just  as  sailors  al 
ways  scan  the  horizon.  He  knew  how  the 
cowboys  looked,  because  he  had  seen  Buffalo 
Bill's  show;  and  he  knew  how  they  talked,  be 
cause  he  had  read  accurate  authors  of  the  school 


28  THE  CLAIM  JUMPERS 

of  Bret  Harte.     He  could  even  imagine  the  ro 
mantic  mountain  maidens. 

With  his  preconceived  notions  the  country, 
in  most  particulars,  tallied  interestingly.  At 
first  Bennington  frequented  the  little  town 
down  the  draw.  It  answered  fairly  well  to  the 
story-book  descriptions,  but  proved  a  bit  lively 
for  him.  The  first  day  they  lent  him  a  horse. 
The  horse  looked  sleepy.  It  took  him  twenty 
minutes  to  get  on  the  animal  and  twenty  sec 
onds  to  fall  off.  There  was  an  audience.  They 
made  him  purchase  strange  drinks  at  outlandish 
prices.  After  that  they  shot  holes  all  around 
his  feet  to  induce  him  to  dance.  He  had  in 
herited  an  obstinate  streak  from  some  of  his 
forebears,  and  declined  when  it  went  that  far. 
They  then  did  other  things  to  him  which  were 
not  pleasant.  Most  of  these  pranks  seemed  to 
have  been  instigated  by  a  laughing,  curly- 
haired  young  man  named  Fay.  Fay  had  clear 
blue  eyes,  which  seemed  always  to  mock  you. 
He  could  think  up  more  diabolical  schemes  in 
ten  minutes  than  the  rest  of  the  men  in  as  many 
hours.  Bennington  came  shortly  to  hate  this 
man  Fay.  His  attentions  had  so  much  of  the 


THE  STORY-BOOK   WEST  29 

gratuitous!  For  a  number  of  days,  even  after 
the  enjoyment  of  novelty  had  worn  off,  the 
Easterner  returned  bravely  to  Spanish  Gulch 
every  afternoon  for  the  mail.  It  was  a  matter 
of  pride  with  him.  He  did  not  like  to  be 
bluffed  out.  But  Fay  was  always  there. 

"  Tender  foot!  "  the  latter  would  shriek  joy 
ously,  and  bear  down  on  the  shrinking  de 
Laney. 

That  would  bring  out  the  loafers.  It  all 
had  to  happen  over  again. 

Bennington  hoped  that  this  performance 
would  cease  in  time.  It  never  did. 

By  a  mental  process,  unnecessary  to  trace 
here,  he  modified  his  first  views,  and  permitted 
Old  Mizzou  to  get  the  mail.  Spanish  Gulch 
saw  him  no  more. 

After  all,  it  was  quite  as  good  Western  ex 
perience  to  wander  in  the  hills.  He  did  not 
regret  the  other.  In  fact,  as  he  cast  in  review 
his  research  in  Wild  West  literature,  he  per 
ceived  that  the  incidents  of  his  town  visits  were 
the  proper  thing.  He  would  not  have  had 
them  different — to  look  back  on.  They  were 
inspiring — to  write  home  about.  He  recog- 


3<D  THE   CLAIM  JUMPERS 

nised  all  the  types — the  miner,  the  gambler,  the 
saloon-keeper,  the  bad  man,  the  cowboy,  the 
prospector — just  as  though  they  had  stepped 
living  from  the  pages  of  his  classics.  They  had 
the  true  slouch;  they  used  the  picturesque  lan 
guage.  The  log  cabins  squared  with  his  ideas. 
The  broncos  even  exceeded  them. 

But  now  he  had  seen  it  all.  There  is  no 
sense  in  draining  an  agreeable  cup  to  satiety. 
He  was  quite  content  to  enjoy  his  rambles  in 
the  hills,  like  the  healthy  youngster  he  was. 
But  had  he  seen  it  all?  On  reflection,  he  ac 
knowledged  he  could  not  make  this  statement 
to  himself  with  a  full  consciousness  of  sincerity. 
One  thing  was  lacking  from  the  preconceived 
picture  his  imagination  had  drawn.  There  had 
been  no  Mountain  Flowers.  By  that  he  meant 
girls. 

Every  one  knows  what  a  Western  girl  is. 
She  is  a  beautiful  creature,  always,  with  clear, 
tanned  skin,  bright  eyes,  and  curly  hair.  She 
wears  a  Tarn  o'  Shanter.  She  rides  a  horse. 
Also,  she  talks  deliciously,  in  a  silver  voice, 
about  "  old  pards."  Altogether  a  charming 
vision — in  books. 


THE   STORY-BOOK   WEST  3I 

This  vision  Bennington  had  not  yet  realized. 
The  rest  of  the  West  came  up  to  specifica 
tions,  but  this  one  essential  failed.  In  Spanish 
Gulch  he  had,  to  be  sure,  encountered  a  number 
of  girls.  But  they  were  red-handed,  big-boned, 
freckled-faced,  rough-skinned,  and  there  wasn't 
a  Tarn  o'  Shanter  in  the  lot.  Plainly  servants, 
Bennington  thought.  The  Mountain  Flower 
must  have  gone  on  a  visit.  Come  to  think  of 
it,  there  never  was  more  than  one  Mountain 
Flower  to  a  town. 


CHAPTER    III 

BENNINGTON    HUNTS    FOR    GOLD    AND    FINDS 
A    KISS 

ONE  day  Old  Mizzou  brought  him  a  blue 
print  map. 

"  This  y'ar  map,"  said  he,  spreading  it  out 
under  his  stubby  fingers,  "  shows  the  deestrict. 
I  gets  it  of  Fay,  so  you  gains  an  idee  of  th'  lay 
'of  the  land  a  whole  lot.  Them  claims  marked 
with  a  crost  belongs  to  th'  Company.  You  kin 
lake  her  and  explore/' 

This  struck  Bennington  as  an  excellent  idea. 
He  sat  down  at  the  table  and  counted  the 
crosses.  There  were  fourteen  of  them.  The 
different  lodes  were  laid  off  in  mathematically 
exact  rectangles,  running  in  many  directions. 
A  few  joined  one  another,  but  most  lay  isolated. 
Their  relative  positions  were  a  trifle  confusing 
at  first,  but,  after  a  little  earnest  study,  Benning 
ton  thought  he  understood  them.  He  could 

start  with  the  Holy  Smoke,  just  outside  the 
32 


HUNTS  FOR  GOLD  AND  FINDS  A  KISS      35 

door.  The  John  Logan  lay  beyond,  at  an  ob 
tuse  angle.  Then  a  jump  of  a  hundred  yards 
or  so  to  the  southwest  would  bring  him  to  the 
Crazy  Horse.  This  he  resolved  to  locate,  for  it 
was  said  to  be  on  the  same  "  lode  "  as  a  big 
strike  some  one  had  recently  made.  He  picked 
up  his  rifle  and  set  out. 

Now,  a  blue-print  map  maker  has  undoubt 
edly  accurate  ideas  as  to  points  of  the  compass, 
and  faultless  proficiency  in  depicting  bird's-eye 
views,  but  he  neglects  entirely  the  putting  in  of 
various  ups  and  down,  slants  and  windings  of 
the  country,  which  apparently  twist  the  north 
pole  around  to  the  east-south-east.  You  start 
due  west  on  a  bee  line,  according  to  directions; 
after  about  ten  feet  you  scramble  over  a  fallen 
tree,  skirt  a  boulder,  dip  into  a  ravine,  and 
climb  a  ledge.  Your  starting  point  is  out  of 
sight  behind  you;  your  destination  is,  Heaven 
knows  where,  in  front.  By  the  time  you  have 
walked  six  thousand  actual  feet,  which  is  as  near 
as  you  can  guess  to  fifteen  hundred  theoretical 
level  ones,  your  little  blazed  stake  in  a  pile  of 
stones  is  likely  to  be  almost  anywhere  within 
a  liberal  quarter  of  a  mile.  Then  it  is  guess- 


34  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

work.  If  the  hill  is  pretty  thickly  staked  out, 
the  chase  becomes  exciting.  In  the  middle  dis 
tance  you  see  a  post.  You  clamber  eagerly  to 
it,  only  to  find  that  it  marks  your  neighbour's 
claim.  You  have  lost  your  standpoint  of  a  mo 
ment  ago,  and  must  start  afresh.  In  an  hour's 
time  you  have  discovered  every  stake  on  the  hill 
but  the  one  you  want.  In  two  hours'  time  you 
are  staggering  homeward  a  gibbering  idiot. 
Then  you  are  brought  back  to  profane  sanity 
by  falling  at  full  length  over  the  very  object  of 
your  search. 

Bennington  was  treated  to  full  measure  of 
this  experience.  He  found  the  John  Logan 
lode  without  much  difficulty,  and  followed  its 
length  with  less,  for  the  simple  reason  that  its 
course  lay  over  the  round  brow  of  a  hill  bare  of 
trees.  He  also  discovered  the  "Northeast  Cor 
ner  of  the  Crazy  Horse  Lode  "  plainly  marked 
on  the  white  surface  of  a  pine  stake  braced  up 
right  in  a  pile  of  rocks.  Thence  he  confidently 
paced  south,  and  found  nothing.  Next  trip  he 
came  across  pencilled  directions  concerning  the 
"Miner's  Dream  Lode."  The  time  after  he 
ran  against  the  "  Golden  Ball "  and  the  "  Gol- 


HUNTS   FOR   GOLD  AND   FINDS  A  KISS     35 

den  Chain  Lodes."  Bennington  reflected;  his 
mind  was  becoming  a  little  heated. 

"  It's  because  I  went  around  those  ledges 
and  boulders,"  he  said  to  himself;  "  I  got  off 
the  straight  line.  This  time  I'll  take  the 
straight  line  and  keep  it." 

So  he  addressed  himself  to  the  surmounting 
of  obstructions.  Work  of  that  sort  is  not  easy. 
At  one  point  he  lost  his  hold  on  a  broad,  steep 
rock,  and  slid  ungracefully  to  the  foot  of  it,  his 
elbows  digging  frantically  into  the  moss,  and 
his  legs  straddled  apart.  As  he  struck  bottom, 
he  imagined  he  heard  a  most  delicious  little 
laugh.  So  real  was  the  illusion  that  he  gripped 
two  handfuls  of  moss  and  looked  about  sharp 
ly,  but  of  course  saw  nothing.  The  laugh  was 
repeated. 

He  looked  again,  and  so  became  awrare  of  a 
Vision  in  pink,  standing  just  in  front  of  a  big 
pine  above  him  on  the  hill  and  surveying  him 
with  mischievous  eyes. 

Surprise  froze  him,  his  legs  straddled,  his 
hat  on  one  side,  his  mouth  open.  The  Vision 
began  to  pick  its  way  down  the  hill,  eyeing  him 
the  while. 


36  THE  CLAIM  JUMPERS 

That  dancing  scrutiny  seemed  to  mesmerize 
him.  He  was  enchanted  to  perfect  stillness, 
but  he  was  graciously  permitted  to  take  in  the 
particulars  of  the  girl's  appearance.  She  was 
dainty.  Every  posture  of  her  slight  figure  was 
of  an  airy  grace,  as  light  and  delicate  as  that 
of  a  rose  tendril  swaying  in  the  wind.  Even 
when  she  tripped  over  a  loose  rock,  she  caught 
her  balance  again  with  a  pretty  little  uplift  of 
the  hand.  As  she  approached,  slowly,  and 
evidently  not  unwilling  to  allow  her  charms  full 
time  in  which  to  work,  Bennington  could  see 
that  her  face  was  delicately  made;  but  as  to  the 
details  he  could  not  judge  clearly  because  of 
her  mischievous  eyes.  They  were  large  and 
wide  and  clear,  and  of  a  most  peculiar  colour — 
a  purple-violet,  of  the  shade  one  sometimes 
finds  in  flowers,  but  only  in  the  flowers  of  a 
deep  and  shady  wood.  In  this  wonderful  col 
our — which  seemed  to  borrow  the  richness  of 
its  hue  rather  from  its  depth  than  from  any  pig 
ment  of  its  own,  just  as  beyond  soundings  the 
ocean  changes  from  green  to  blue — an  hundred 
moods  seem  to  rise  slowly  from  within,  to  swim 
visible,  even  though  the  mere  expression  of 


HUNTS   FOR   GOLD   AND   FINDS   A   KISS      37 

her  face  gave  no  sign  of  them.  For  instance, 
at  the  present  moment  her  features  were  com 
posed  to  the  utmost  gravity.  Yet  in  her  eyes 
bubbled  gaiety  and  fun,  as  successive  up- 
swellings  of  a  spring;  or,  rather,  as  the  riffles 
of  sunlight  and  wind,  or  the  pictured  flight 
of  birds  across  a  pool  whose  surface  alone  is 
stirred. 

Bennington  realized  suddenly,  with  over 
whelming  fervency,  that  he  preferred  to  slide 
in  solitude. 

The  Vision  in  the  starched  pink  gingham 
now  poised  above  him  like  a  humming-bird 
over  a  flower.  From  behind  her  back  she 
withdrew  one  hand.  In  the  hand  was  the  miss 
ing  claim  stake. 

"  Is  this  what  you  are  looking  for?  "  she 
inquired  demurely. 

The  mesmeric  spell  broke,  and  Bennington 
was  permitted  to  babble  incoherencies. 

She  stamped  her  foot. 

"  Is  this  what  you're  looking  for?  "  she  per 
sisted. 

Bennington's  chaos  had  not  yet  crystallized 
to  relevancy. 


38  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

"Wh — where  did  you  get  it?"  he  stam 
mered  again. 

"  IS    THIS    WHAT    YOU'RE    LOOKING    FOR?  " 

she  demanded  in  very  large  capitals. 

The  young  man  regained  control  of  his  fac 
ulties  with  an  effort. 

"Yes,  it  is!"  he  rejoined  sharply;  and  then, 
with  the  instinct  that  bids  us  appreciate  the 
extent  of  our  relief  by  passing  an  annoyance 
along,  "  Don't  you  know  it's  a  penal  offence 
to  disturb  claim  stakes?  " 

He  had  suddenly  discovered  that  he  pre 
ferred  to  find  claim  stakes  on  claims. 

The  Vision's  eyes  opened  wider. 

"  It  must  be  nice  to  know  so  much!  "  said 
she,  in  reverent  admiration. 

Bennington  flushed.  As  a  de  Laney,  the 
girls  he  had  known  had  always  taken  him 
seriously.  He  disliked  being  made  fun 
of. 

"  This  is  nonsense,"  he  objected,  with  some 
impatience.  "  I  must  know  where  it  came 
from." 

In  the  background  of  his  consciousness  still 
whirled  the  moil  of  his  wonder  and  bewilder- 


HUNTS   FOR   GOLD   AND   FINDS   A   KISS      39 

nient.  He  clung  to  the  claim  stake  as  a  stable 
object. 

The  Vision  looked  straight  at  him  without 
winking,  and  those  wonderful  eyes  filled  with 
tears.  Yet  underneath  their  mist  seemed  to 
sparkle  little  points  of  light,  as  wavelets  through 
a  vapour  which  veils  the  surface  of  the  sea. 
Bennington  became  conscious-stricken  because 
of  the  tears,  and  still  he  owned  an  uneasy  sus 
picion  that  they  were  not  real. 

"  I'm  so  sorry!  "  she  said  contritely,  after 
a  moment;  "  I  thought  I  was  helping  you  so 
much!  I  found  that  stake  just  streaking  it 
over  the  top  of  the  hill.  It  had  got  loose 
and  was  running  away."  The  mist  had  cleared 
up  very  suddenly,  and  the  light-tipped  sparkles 
of  fun  were  chasing  each  other  rapidly,  as 
though  impelled  by  a  lively  breeze.  "  I 
thought  you'd  be  ever  so  grateful,  and,  instead 
of  that,  you  scold  me!  I  don't  believe  I  like 
you  a  bit!  " 

She  looked  him  over  reflectively,  as  though 
making  up  her  mind. 

Bennington  laughed  outright,  and  scram 
bled  to  his  feet.  "  You  are  absolutely  incor- 


4O  THE  CLAIM  JUMPERS 

rigible!  "  he  exclaimed,  to  cover  his  confusion 
at  his  change  of  face. 

Her  eyes  fairly  danced. 

"  Oh,  what  a  lovely  word!  "  she  cried  rap 
turously.  "  What  does  it  mean?  Something 
nice,  or  I'm  sure  you  wouldn't  have  said  it  about 
me.  Would  you? "  The  eyes  suddenly  be 
came  grave.  "  Oh,  please  tell  me! "  she 
begged  appealingly. 

Bennington  was  thrown  into  confusion  at 
this,  for  he  did  not  know  whether  she  was  seri 
ous  or  not.  He  could  do  nothing  but  stammer 
and  get  red,  and  think  what  a  ridiculous  ass  he 
was  making  of  himself.  He  might  have  con 
sidered  the  help  he  was  getting  in  that. 

"Well,  then,  you  needn't,"  she  conceded, 
magnanimously,  after  a  moment.  "  Only,  you 
ought  not  to  say  things  about  girls  that  you 
don't  dare  tell  them  in  plain  language.  If  you 
will  say  nice  things  about  me,  you  might  as 
well  say  them  so  I  can  understand  them; 
only,  I  do  think  it's  a  little  early  in  our  ac 
quaintance." 

This  cast  Bennington  still  more  in  perplex 
ity.  He  had  a  pretty-well-defined  notion  that 


HUNTS   FOR   GOLD   AND   FINDS   A   KISS      41 

he  was  being  ridiculed,  but  concerning  this,  just 
a  last  grain  of  doubt  remained.  She  rattled  on. 

"Well!"  said  she  impatiently,  "why 
don't  you  say  something?  Why  don't  you 
take  this  stick?  I  don't  want  it.  Men  are  so 
stupid!" 

That  last  remark  has  been  made  many, 
many  times,  and  yet  it  never  fails  of  its  effect, 
which  is  at  once  to  invest  the  speaker  with 
daintiness  indescribable,  and  to  thrust  the  man 
addressed  into  nether  inferiority.  Bennington 
fell  to  its  charm.  He  took  the  stake. 

"  Where  does  it  belong?  "   he  asked. 

She  pointed  silently  to  a  pile  of  stones.  He 
deposited  the  stake  in  its  proper  place,  and  re 
turned  to  find  her  seated  on  the  ground,  pluck 
ing  a  handful  of  the  leaves  of  a  little  erect  herb 
that  grew  abundantly  in  the  hollow.  These  she 
rubbed  together  and  held  to  her  face  inside  the 
sunbonnet. 

"  Who  are  you,  anyway?  "  asked  Benning 
ton  abruptly,  as  he  returned. 

"  D'  you  ever  see  this  before?  "  she  in 
quired  irrelevantly,  looking  up  with  her  eyes 
as  she  leaned  over  the  handful.  "  Good  for 


42  THE   CLAIM  JUMPERS 

colds.  Makes  your  nose  feel  all  funny  and 
prickly." 

She  turned  her  hands  over  and  began  to 
drop  the  leaves  one  by  one.  Bennington 
caught  himself  watching  her  with  fascinated  in 
terest  in  silence.  He  began  to  find  this  one 
of  her  most  potent  charms — the  faculty  of  trans 
lating  into  a  grace  so  exquisite  as  almost  to 
realize  the  fabled  poetry  of  motion,  the  least 
shrug  of  her  shoulders,  the  smallest  crook  of 
her  finger,  the  slightest  toss  of  her  small,  well- 
balanced  head.  She  looked  up. 

"  Want  to  smell?  "  she  inquired,  and  held 
out  her  hands  with  a  pretty  gesture. 

Not  knowing  what  else  to  do,  Bennington 
stepped  forward  obediently  and  stooped  over. 
The  twro  little  palms  held  a  single  crushed  bit 
of  the  herb  in  their  cup.  They  were  soft,  pink 
little  palms,  all  wrinkled,  like  crumpled  rose 
leaves.  Bennington  stooped  to  smell  the  herb; 
instead,  he  kissed  the  palms. 

The  girl  sprang  to  her  feet  with  one  indig 
nant  motion  and  faced  him.  The  eyes  now 
flashed  blue  flame,  and  Bennington  for  the  first 
time  noticed  what  had  escaped  him  before — that 


HUNTS   FOR   GOLD   AND   FINDS   A   KISS     43 

the  forehead  was  broad  and  thoughtful,  and 
that  above  it  the  hair,  instead  of  being  blonde 
and  curly  and  sparkling  with  golden  radiance, 
was  of  a  peculiar  wavy  brown  that  seemed  some 
times  full  of  light  and  sometimes  lustreless  and 
black,  according  as  it  caught  the  direct  rays  oi 
the  sun  or  not.  Then  he  appreciated  his  of 
fence. 

"  Sir! "  she  exclaimed,  and  turned  away 
with  a  haughty  shoulder. 

"And  we've  never  been  introduced!"  she 
said,  half  to  herself,  but  her  face  was  now  con 
cealed,  so  that  Bennington  could  not  see  she 
laughed.  She  marched  stiffly  down  the  hill. 
Bennington  turned  to  follow  her,  although  the 
action  was  entirely  mechanical,  and  he  had  no 
definite  idea  in  doing  so. 

"  Don't  you  dare,  sir!  "    she  cried. 

So  he  did  not  dare. 

This  vexed  her  for  a  moment.  Then,  hav 
ing  gone  quite  out  of  sight,  she  sank  down  and 
laughed  until  the  tears  ran  down  her  cheeks. 

"I  didn't  think  he  knew  enough!"  she 
said,  with  a  final  hysterical  chuckle. 

This    first    impression    of    the    Mountain 


44  THE   CLAIM  JUMPERS 

Flower,  Bennington  would  have  been  willing 
to  acknowledge,  was  quite  complicated  enough, 
but  he  was  destined  to  further  surprises. 

When  he  returned  to  the  Holy  Smoke 
camp  he  found  Old  Mizzou  in  earnest  conver 
sation  with  a  peculiar-looking  stranger,  whose 
hand  he  was  promptly  requested  to  shake. 

The  stranger  was  a  tall,  scraggly  individual, 
dressed  in  the  usual  flannel  shirt  and  blue  jeans, 
the  latter  tucked  into  rusty  cowhide  boots. 
Bennington  was  interested  in  him  because  he 
was  so  phenomenally  ugly.  From  the  collar  of 
his  shirt  projected  a  lean,  sinewy  neck,  on  which 
the  too-abundant  skin  rolled  and  wrinkled  in  a 
dark  red,  wind-roughened  manner  particularly 
disagreeable  to  behold.  The  neck  supported  a 
small  head.  The  face  was  wizened  and  tanned 
to  a  dark  mahogany  colour.  It  was  orna 
mented  with  a  grizzled  goatee. 

The  man  smoked  a  stub  pipe.  His  remarks 
were  emphasized  by  the  gestures  of  a  huge  and 
gnarled  pair  of  hands. 

"  Mr.  Lawton  is  from  Old  Mizzou,  too, 
afore  he  moved  to  Illinoy,"  commented  David 
son.  One  became  aware,  from  the  loving  tones 


HUNTS   FOR  GOLD  AND   FINDS  A   KISS     45 

in  which  he  pronounced  the  two  words,  whence 
he  derived  his  sobriquet. 

Lawton  expressed  the  opinion  that  Chilli- 
cothe,  of  that  State,  was  the  finest  town  on  top 
of  earth. 

Bennington  presumed  it  might  be,  and  then 
opportunely  bethought  him  of  a  bottle  of  Cana 
dian  Club,  which,  among  other  necessary  arti 
cles,  he  had  brought  with  him  from  New  York. 
This  he  produced.  The  old  Missourians 
brightened;  Davidson  went  into  the  cabin  after 
glasses  and  a  corkscrew.  He  found  the  cork 
screw  all  right,  but  apparently  had  some  diffi 
culty  in  regard  to  the  glasses.  They  could  hear 
him  calling  vociferously  for  Mrs.  Arthur.  Mrs. 
Arthur  had  gone  to  the  spring  for  water.  In 
a  few  moments  Old  Mizzou  appeared  in  the 
doorway  exceedingly  red  of  face. 

"  Consarn  them  women  folks!  "  he  grum 
bled,  depositing  the  tin  cups  on  the  porch. 
"  They  locks  up  an'  conceals  things  most  dam 
nable.  Ain't  a  tumbler  in  th'  place." 

"  These  yar  is  all  right,"  assured  Lawton 
consolingly,  picking  up  one  of  the  cups  and  ex 
amining  the  bottom  of  it  with  great  care. 


46  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

"  I  reckon  they'll  hold  the  likker,  anyhow," 
agreed  Davidson. 

They  passed  the  bottle  politely  to  de 
Laney,  and  the  latter  helped  himself.  For 
his  part,  he  was  glad  the  tin  cups  had 
been  necessary,  for  it  enabled  him  to  con 
ceal  the  smallness  of  his  dose.  Lawton 
filled  his  own  up  to  the  brim;  Davidson  fol 
lowed  suit. 

"Here's  how!"  observed  the  latter,  and 
the  two  old  turtlebacks  drank  the  raw  whisky 
down,  near  a  half  pint  of  it,  as  though  it  had 
been  so  much  milk. 

Bennington  fairly  gasped  with  astonish 
ment.  "  Don't  you  ever  take  any  water?  "  he 
asked. 

They  turned  slowly.  Old  Mizzou  looked 
him  in  the  eye  with  glimmering  reproach. 

"  Not  if  th'  whisky's  good,  sonny,"  said  he 
impressively. 

"  Wall,"  commented  Lawton,  after  a  pause, 
"  that  is  a  good  drink.  Reckon  I  must  be 
goin'." 

*Stay  t'  grub!"  urged  Old  Mizzou  heartily. 

"  Folks  waitin'.     Remember!  " 


HUNTS   FOR   GOLD   AND   FINDS   A   KISS     47 

They  looked  at  Bennington  and  chuckled  a 
little,  to  that  young  man's  discomfort. 

"  Lawton's  a  damn  fine  fella',"  said  Old 
Mizzou  with  emphasis.  Bennington  thought, 
with  a  shudder,  of  the  loose-skinned,  turkey- 
red  neck,  and  was  silent. 

After  supper  Bennington  and  Old  Mizzou 
played  cribbage  by  the  light  of  a  kerosene 
lamp. 

"  While  I  was  hunting  claims  this  after 
noon,"  said  the  Easterner  suddenly,  "  I  ran 
across  a  mighty  pretty  girl." 

"  Yas?  "  observed  Old  Mizzou  with  indif 
ference.  "  What  fer  a  gal  was  it?  " 

"  She  didn't  look  as  if  she  belonged  around 
here.  She  was  a  slender  girl,  very  pretty,  with 
a  pink  dress  on." 

"  Ain't  no  female  strangers  yar-abouts. 
Blue  eyes?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  An'  ha'r  that  sometimes  looks  black  an' 
sometimes  yaller-brown?  " 

"  Yes,  that's  the  one  all  right.  Who  is 
she?  " 

"Oh,  that!"    said  Old  Mizzou  with  slight 


48  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

interest,  "  that's  Bill  Lawton's  girl.  Live's 
down  th'  gulch.  He's  th'  fella'  that  was  yar 
afore  grub,"  he  explained. 

For  a  full  minute  Bennington  stared  at  the 
cards  in  his  hand.  The  patriarch  became  im 
patient. 

"  Yore  play,  sonny,"  he  suggested. 

"  I  don't  believe  you  know  the  one  I 
mean,"  returned  Bennington  slowly.  "  She's 
a  girl  with  a  little  mouth  and  a  nose  that  is 
tipped  up  just  a  trifle " 

"Snub!"  interrupted  Old  Mizzou,  with 
some  impatience.  "  Yas,  I  knows.  Same  crit 
ter.  Only  one  like  her  in  th'  Hills.  Sasshays 
all  over  th'  scenery,  an'  don't  do  nothin'  but  sit 
on  rocks." 

"  So  she's  the  daughter  of  that  man!  "  said 
Bennington,  still  more  slowly. 

"Wall,  so  Mis'  Lawton  sez,"  chuckled 
Mizzou. 

That  night  Bennington  lay  awake  for  some 
time.  He  had  discovered  the  Mountain 
Flower;  the  story-book  West  was  complete 
at  last.  But  he  had  offended  his  discovery. 
What  was  the  etiquette  in  such  a  case?  Back 


HUNTS  FOR   GOLD  AND   FINDS  A  KISS     49 

East  he  would  have  felt  called  upon  to  apolo 
gize  for  being  rude.  Then,  at  the  thought  of 
apologizing  to  a  daughter  of  that  turkey 
necked  old  whisky-guzzler  he  had  to  laugh. 


CHAPTER    IV 

THE    SUN    FAIRY 

THE  next  afternoon,  after  the  day's  writing 
and  prospecting  were  finished,  Bennington  re 
solved  to  go  deer  hunting.  He  had  skipped 
thirteen  chapters  of  his  work  to  describe  the 
heroine,  Rhoda.  She  had  wonderful  eyes,  and 
was,  I  believe,  dressed  in  a  garment  whose 
colour  was  pink. 

"  Keep  yore  moccasins  greased,"  Old  Miz- 
zou  advised  at  parting;  by  which  he  meant 
that  the  young  man  was  to  step  softly. 

This  he  found  to  be  difficult.  His  course 
lay  along  the  top  of  the  ridge  where  the  ob 
structions  were  many.  There  were  outcrops, 
boulders,  ravines,  broken  twigs,  old  leaves,  and 
dikes,  all  of  which  had  to  be  surmounted  or 
avoided.  They  were  all  aggravating,  but  the 
dikes  possessed  some  intellectual  interest  which 
the  others  lacked. 

A  dike,  be  it  understood,  is  a  hole  in  the 

50 


THE   SUN   FAIRY  t;  j 

earth  made  visible.  That  is  to  say,  in  old  days, 
when  mountains  were  much  loftier  than  they 
are  now,  various  agencies  brought  it  to  pass 
that  they  split  and  cracked  and  yawned  down 
to  the  innermost  cores  of  their  being  in  such 
hideous  fashion  that  chasms  and  holes  of  great 
depth  and  perpendicularity  were  opened  in 
them.  Thereupon  the  interior  fires  were  re 
leased,  and  these,  vomiting  up  a  vast  supply 
of  molten  material,  filled  said  chasms  and 
holes  to  the  very  brim.  The  molten  material 
cooled  into  fire-hardened  rock.  The  rains  de 
scended  and  the  snows  melted.  Under  their 
erosive  influence  the  original  mountains  were 
cut  down  somewhat,  but  the  erstwhile  molten 
material,  being,  as  we  have  said,  fire-hardened, 
wasted  very  little,  or  not  at  all,  and,  as  a  conse 
quence,  stands  forth  above  its  present  sur 
roundings  in  exact  mould  of  the  ancient  cracks 
or  holes. 

Now,  some  dikes  are  long  and  narrow, 
others  are  short  and  wide,  and  still  others  are 
nearly  round.  All,  however,  are  highest 
points,  and,  head  and  shoulders  above  the 
trees,  look  abroad  over  the  land. 


52  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

When  Bennington  came  to  one  of  these 
dikes  he  was  forced  to  pick  his  way  carefully 
in  a  detour  around  its  base.  Between  times 
he  found  hobnails  much  inclined  to  click 
against  unforeseen  stones.  The  broken  twig 
came  to  possess  other  than  literary  importance. 
After  a  little  his  nerves  asserted  themselves. 
Unconsciously  he  relaxed  his  attention  and  be 
gan  to  think. 

The  subject  of  his  thoughts  was  the  girl  he 
had  seen  just  twenty-four  hours  before.  He 
caught  himself  remembering  little  things  he 
had  not  consciously  noticed  at  the  time,  as,  for 
instance,  the  strange  contrast  between  the  mis 
chief  in  her  eyes  and  the  austerity  of  her  brow, 
or  the  queer  little  fashion  she  had  of  winking 
rapidly  four  or  five  times,  and  then  opening 
her  eyes  wide  and  looking  straight  into  the 
depths  of  his  own.  He  considered  it  quite  a 
coincidence  that  he  had  unconsciously  returned 
to  the  spot  on  which  they  had  met  the  day  be 
fore — the  rich  Crazy  Horse  lode. 

As  though  in  answer  to  his  recognition  of 
this  fact,  her  voice  suddenly  called  to  him  from 
above. 


THE   SUN   FAIRY  53 

"Hullo,  little  boy!"   it  cried. 

He  felt  at  once  that  he  was  pleased  at  the 
encounter. 

"  Hullo!  "  he  answered;  "  where  are  you?  " 

"  Right  here." 

He  looked  up,  and  then  still  up,  until,  at 
the  flat  top  of  the  castellated  dike  that  stood 
over  him,  he  caught  a  gleam  of  pink.  The 
contrast  between  it,  the  blue  of  the  sky,  and 
the  dark  green  of  the  trees,  was  most  beautiful 
and  unusual.  Nature  rarely  uses  pink,  except 
in  sunsets  and  in  flowers.  Bennington 
thought  pleasedly  how  every  impression  this 
girl  made  upon  him  was  one  of  grace  or 
beauty  or  bright  colour.  The  gleam  of  pink 
disappeared,  and  a  great  pine  cone,  heavy  with 
pitch,  came  buzzing  through  the  air  to  fall  at 
his  feet. 

"  That's  to  show  you  where  I  am,"  came 
the  clear  voice.  "  You  ought  to  feel  hon 
oured.  I've  only  three  cones  left." 

The  dike  before  which  Bennington  had 
paused  was  one  of  the  round  variety.  It  rose 
perhaps  twenty  feet  above  the  debris  at  its  base, 
sheer,  gray,  its  surface  almost  intact  except  for 


54  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

an  insignificant  number  of  frost  fissures. 
From  its  base  the  hill  fell  rapidly,  so  that, 
even  from  his  own  inferior  elevation,  he  was 
enabled  to  look  over  the  tops  of  trees  standing 
but  a  few  rods  away  from  him.  He  could  see 
that  the  summit  of  this  dike  was  probably 
nearly  flat,  and  he  surmised  that,  once  up 
there,  one  would  become  master  of  a  pretty 
enough  little  plateau  on  which  to  sit;  but  his 
careful  circumvallation  could  discover  no  pos 
sible  method  of  ascent.  The  walls  afforded  no 
chance  for  a  squirrel's  foothold  even.  He  be 
gan  to  doubt  whether  he  had  guessed  aright 
as  to  the  girl's  whereabouts,  and  began  care 
fully  to  examine  the  tops  of  the  trees.  Dis 
covering  nothing  in  them,  he  cast  another  puz 
zled  glance  at  the  top  of  the  dike.  A  pair  of 
violet  eyes  was  scrutinizing  him  gravely  over 
the  edge  of  it. 

"  How  in  the  world  did  you  get  up  there?  " 
he  cried. 

"  Flew,"  she  explained,  with  great  succinct 
ness. 

"  Look  out  you  don't  fall,"  he  warned  has 
tily;  her  attitude  was  alarming. 


THE   SUN    FAIRY  55 

"  I  am  lying  flat,"  said  she,  "  and  I  can't 
fall." 

"  You  haven't  told  me  how  you  got  up.  I 
want  to  come  up,  too." 

"  How  do  you  know  I  want  you?  " 

"  I  have  such  a  lot  of  things  to  say!  "  cried 
Bennington,  rather  at  a  loss  for  a  valid  reason, 
but  feeling  the  necessity  keenly. 

"  Well,  sit  down  and  say  them.  There's  a 
big  flat  rock  just  behind  you." 

This  did  not  suit  him  in  the  least.  "  I  wish 
you'd  let  me  up,"  he  begged  petulantly.  "  I 
can't  say  what  I  want  from  here." 

"  I  can  hear  you  quite  well.  You'll  have 
to  talk  from  there,  or  else  keep  still." 

'  That  isn't  fair! "  persisted  the  young 
man,  adopting  a  tone  of  argument.  "  You're 
a  girl " 

"  Stop  there!  You  are  wrong  to  start  with. 
Did  you  think  that  a  creature  who  could  fly 
to  the  tops  of  the  rocks  was  a  mere  girl?  Not 
at  all." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  the  easily 
bewildered  Bennington. 

"  What  I  say.     I'm  not  a  girl." 


56  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

"  What  are  you  then?  " 

"  A  sun  fairy." 

"  A  sun  fairy?  " 

"  Yes;  a  real  live  one.  See  that  cloud  over 
toward  the  sun?  The  nice  downy  one,  I 
mean.  That's  my  couch.  I  sleep  on  it  all 
night.  I've  got  it  near  the  sun  so  that  it  will 
warm  up,  you  see." 

"  I  see,"  cried  Bennington.  He  could  rec 
ognise  foolery  —  provided  it  were  ticketed 
plainly  enough.  He  sat  down  on  the  flat  rock 
before  indicated,  and  clasped  his  knee  with 
his  hands,  prepared  to  enjoy  more.  "  Is  that 
your  throne  up  there,  Sun  Fairy?  "  he  asked. 
She  had  withdrawn  her  head  from  sight. 

"  It  is,"  her  voice  came  down  to  him  in 
grave  tones. 

"  It  must  be  a  very  nice  one." 

"  The  nicest  throne  you  ever  saw." 

"  I  never  saw  one,  but  I've  often  heard  that 
thrones  were  unpleasant  things." 

"  I  am  sitting,  foolish  mortal,"  said  she, 
in  tones  of  deep  commiseration,  "  on  a  soft, 
thick  cushion  of  moss — much  more  comfort 
able,  I  imagine,  than  hard,  flat  rocks.  And  the 


THE   SUN    FAIRY 


57 


nice  warm  sun  is  shining  on  me — it  must  be 
rather  chilly  in  the  woods  to-day.  And  there 
is  a  breeze  blowing  from  the  Big  Horn — old 
rocks  are  always  damp  and  stuffy  in  the  shade. 
And  I  am  looking  away  out  over  the  Hills — I 
hope  some  people  enjoy  the  sight  of  piles  of 
quartzite." 

"Cruel  sun  fairy!"  cried  Bennington. 
"  Why  do  you  tantalize  me  so  with  the  de 
lights  from  which  you  debar  me?  What  have 
I  done? " 

There  was  a  short  silence. 

"  Can't  you  think  of  anything  you've 
done?  "  asked  the  voice,  insinuatingly. 

Bennington's  conscience-stricken  memory 
stirred.  It  did  not  seem  so  ridiculous,  under 
the  direct  charm  of  the  fresh  young  voice  that 
came  down  through  the  summer  air  from 
above,  like  a  dove's  note  from  a  treetop,  to 
apologize  to  Lawton's  girl.  The  incongruity 
now  was  in  forcing  into  this  Arcadian  incident 
anything  savouring  of  conventionality  at  all. 
It  had  been  so  idyllic,  this  talk  of  the  sun 
fairy  and  the  cloud;  so  like  a  passage  from 
an  old  book  of  legends,  this  dainty  episode 


58  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

in  the  great,  strong,  Western  breezes,  under 
the  great,  strong,  Western  sky.  Everything 
should  be  perfect,  not  to  be  blamed. 

"  Do  sun  fairies  accept  apologies? "  he 
asked  presently,  in  a  subdued  voice. 

"They  might/' 

"  This  particular  sun  fairy  is  offered  one 
by  a  man  who  is  sorry." 

"  Is  it  a  good  big  one?  " 

"  Indeed,  yes." 

The  head  appeared  over  the  edge  of  the 
rock,  inspected  him  gravely  for  a  moment,  and 
was  withdrawn. 

"  Then  it  is  accepted,"  said  the  voice. 

"  Thank  you!  "  he  replied  sincerely.  "  And 
now  are  you  going  to  let  down  your  rope  lad 
der,  or  whatever  it  is?  I  really  want  to  talk 
to  you." 

1  You  are  so  persistent!"  cried  the  petu 
lant  voice,  "and  so  foolish!  It  is  like  a  man 
to  spoil  things  by  questionings!" 

He  suddenly  felt  the  truth  of  this.  One 
can  not  talk  every  day  to  a  sun  fairy,  and  the 
experience  can  never  be  repeated.  He  settled 
back  on  the  rock. 


THE   SUN   FAIRY  59 

"  Pardon  me,  Sun  Fairy!  "  he  cried  again. 
"  Rope  ladders,  indeed,  to  one  who  has  but 
to  close  her  eyes  and  she  finds  herself  on  a 
downy  cloud  near  the  sun.  My  mortality 
blinded  me!  " 

*'  Now  you  are  a  nice  boy,"  she  approved 
more  contentedly,  "  and  as  a  reward  you  may 
ask  me  one  question." 

41  All  right,"  he  agreed;  and  then,  with 
instinctive  tact,  "'  What  do  you  see  up 
there?  " 

He  could  hear  her  clap  her  hands  with  de 
light,  and  he  felt  glad  that  he  had  followed 
his  impulse  to  ask  just  this  question  instead 
of  one  more  personal  and  more  in  line  with 
his  curiosity. 

"  Listen!  "  she  began.  "  I  see  pines,  many 
pines,  just  the  tops  of  them,  and  they  are  all 
waving  in  the  breeze.  Did  you  ever  see  trees 
from  on  top?  They  are  quite  different.  And 
out  from  the  pines  come  great  round  hills  made 
all  of  stone.  I  think  they  look  like  skulls. 
Then  there  are  breathless  descents  where  the 
pines  fall  away.  Once  in  a  while  a  little  white 
road  flashes  out." 


60  THE   CLAIM  JUMPERS 

'  Yes,"  urged  Bennington,  as  the  voice 
paused.  "  And  what  else  do  you  see?  " 

"  I  see  the  prairie,  too,"  she  went  on  half 
dreamily.  "  It  is  brown  now,  but  the  green 
is  beginning  to  shine  through  it  just  a  very 
little.  And  out  beyond  there  is  a  sparkle. 
That  is  the  Cheyenne.  And  beyond  that  there 
is  something  white,  and  that  is  the  Bad 
Lands." 

The  voice  broke  off  with  a  happy  little 
laugh. 

Bennington  saw  the  scene  as  though  it  lay 
actually  spread  out  before  him.  There  was 
something  in  the  choice  of  the  words,  clear- 
cut,  decisive,  and  descriptive;  but  more  in  the 
exquisite  modulations  of  the  voice,  adding  here 
a  tint,  there  a  shade  to  the  picture,  and  cast 
ing  over  the  whole  that  poetic  glamour  which, 
rarely,  is  imitated  in  grosser  materials  by  Na 
ture  herself,  when,  just  following  sunset,  she 
suffuses  the  landscape  with  a  mellow  after 
glow. 

The  head,  sunbonneted,  reappeared  perked 
inquiringly  sideways. 

"Hello,  stranger!"  it  called  with  a  nasal 


THE   SUN   FAIRY  6l 

inflection,  "  how  air  ye?  Do  y'  think  minin' 
is  goin'  t'  pan  out  well  this  yar  spring?  "  Then 
she  caught  sight  of  his  weapon.  "  What  are 
you  going  to  shoot?"  she  asked  with  sudden 
interest. 

"  I  thought  I  might  see  a  deer." 

"  Deer!  hoh!  "  she  cried  in  lofty  scorn,  re- 
assuming  her  nasal  tone.  "  You  is  shore  a 
tenderfoot!  Don'  you-all  know  that  blastin' 
scares  all  th'  deer  away  from  a  minin'  camp?  " 

Bennington  looked  confused.  "  No,  I 
hadn't  thought  of  that,"  he  confessed  stoutly 
enough. 

"  I  kind  of  like  to  shoot!  "  said  she,  a  little 
wistfully.  "  What  sort  of  a  gun  is  it?  " 

"  A  Savage  smokeless,"  answered  Benning 
ton  perfunctorily. 

"  One  of  the  thirty-calibres?  "  inquired  the 
sunbonnet  with  new  interest. 

"  Yes,"  gasped  Bennington,  astonished  at 
so  much  feminine  knowledge  of  firearms. 

"  Oh!  I'd  like  to  see  it.  I  never  saw  any 
of  those.  May  I  shoot  it,  just  once?  " 

"  Of  course  you  may.  More  than  once. 
Shall  I  come  up?  " 


62  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

"  No.  I'll  come  down.  You  sit  right  still 
on  that  rock." 

The  sunbonnet  disappeared,  and  there  en 
sued  a  momentary  commotion  on  the  other 
side  of  the  dike.  In  an  instant  the  girl  came 
around  the  corner,  picking  her  way  over  the 
loose  blocks  of  stone.  With  the  finger-tips  of 
either  hand  she  held  the  pink  starched  skirt  up, 
displaying  a  neat  little  foot  in  a  heavy  little  shoe. 
Diagonally  across  the  skirt  ran  two  irregular 
brown  stains.  She  caught  him  looking  at 
them. 

"  Naughty,  naughty!"  said  she,  glancing 
down  at  them  with  a  grimace. 

She  dropped  her  skirt,  and  stood  up 
beside  him  with  a  pretty  shake  of  the  shoul 
ders. 

"  Now  let's  see  it,"  she  begged. 

She  examined  the  weapon  with  much  in 
terest,  throwing  down  and  back  the  lever  in 
a  manner  that  showed  she  was  accustomed  at 
least  to  the  old-style  arm. 

"  How  light  it  is!  "  she  commented,  squint 
ing  through  the  sights.  "  Doesn't  it  kick  aw 
fully?  " 


THE   SUN    FAIRY  63 

"  Not  a  bit.  Smokeless  powder,  you 
know." 

"  Of  course.    What'll  we  shoot  at?  " 

Bennington  fumbled  in  his  pockets  and  pro 
duced  an  envelope. 

"  How's  this?  "  he  asked. 

She  seized  it  and  ran  like  an  antelope — with 
the  same  gliding  motion — to  a  tree  about  thirty 
paces  distant,  on  which  she  pinned  the  bit  of 
paper.  They  shot.  Bennington  hit  the  paper 
every  time.  The  girl  missed  it  once.  At  this 
she  looked  a  little  vexed. 

"  You  are  either  very  rude  or  very  sincere," 
was  her  comment. 

"  You're  the  best  shot  I  ever  saw " 

"  Now  don't  dare  say  '  for  a  girl! '  "  she  in 
terrupted  quickly.  "  What's  the  prize?  " 

"Was  this  a  match?" 

"  Of  course  it  was,  and  I  insist  on  pay 
ing  up." 

Bennington  considered. 

"  I  think  I  would  like  to  go  to  the  top  of 
the  rock  there,  and  see  the  pines,  and  the  skull- 
stones,  and  the  prairies." 

She    glanced    toward    him,    knitting    her 


64  THE  CLAIM  JUMPERS 

brows.  "  It  is  my  very  own,"  she  said  doubt 
fully.  "  I've  never  let  anybody  go  up  there 
before." 

One  of  the  diminutive  chipmunks  of  the 
hills  scampered  out  from  a  cleft  in  the  rocks 
and  perched  on  a  moss-covered  log,  chattering 
eagerly  and  jerking  his  tail  in  the  well-known 
manner  of  chipmunks. 

"  Oh,  see!  see!  "  she  cried,  all  excitement  in 
a  moment.  She  seized  the  rifle,  and  taking 
careful  aim,  fired.  The  chattering  ceased;  the 
chipmunk  disappeared. 

Bennington  ran  to  the  log.  Behind  it  lay 
the  little  animal.  The  long  steel-jacketed  bul 
let  had  just  grazed  the  base  of  its  brain.  He 
picked  it  up  gently  in  the  palm  of  his  hand 
and  contemplated  it. 

It  was  such  a  diminutive  beast,  not  as  large 
as  a  good-sized  rat,  quite  smaller  than  our  own 
fence-corner  chipmunks  of  the  East.  It's  little 
sides  were  daintily  striped,  its  little  whiskers 
were  as  perfect  as  those  of  the  great  squirrels 
in  the  timber  bottom.  In  its  pouches  were 
the  roots  of  pine  cones.  Bennington  was  not 
a  sentimentalist,  but  the  incident,  against  the 


THE   SUN   FAIRY  65 

background  of  the  light-hearted  day,  seemed 
to  him  just  a  little  pathetic.  Something  of  the 
feeling  showed  in  his  eyes. 

The  girl,  who  had  drawn  near,  looked  from 
him  to  the  dead  chipmunk,  and  back  again. 
Then  she  burst  suddenly  into  tears. 

"  Oh,  cruel,  cruel!  "  she  sobbed.  "  What 
did  I  do  it  for?  What  did  you  let  me  do  it 
for?" 

Her  distress  was  so  keen  that  the  young 
man  hastened  to  relieve  it. 

"  There,"  he  reassured  her  lightly,  "  don't 
do  that!  Why,  you  are  a  great  hunter.  You 
got  your  game.  And  it  was  a  splendid  shot. 
We'll  have  him  skinned  when  we  get  back 
home,  and  we'll  cure  the  skin,  and  you  can 
make  something  out  of  it — a  spectacle  case," 
he  suggested  at  random.  "  I  know  how  you 
feel,"  he  went  on,  to  give  her  time  to  recover, 
"  but  all  hunters  feel  that  way  occasionally. 
See,  I'll  put  him  just  here  until  we  get 
ready  to  go  home,  where  nothing  can  get 
him." 

He  deposited  the  squirrel  in  the  cleft  of  a 
rock,  quite  out  of  sight,  and  stood  back  as 


66  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

though  pleased.  "  There,  that's  fine!  "  he  con 
cluded. 

With  one  of  those  instantaneous  transi 
tions,  which  seemed  so  natural  to  her,  and  yet 
which  appeared  to  reach  not  at  all  to  her  real 
nature,  she  had  changed  from  an  aspect  of  pas 
sionate  grief  to  one  of  solemn  inquiry.  Ben- 
nington  found  her  looking  at  him  with  the 
soul  brimming  to  the  very  surface  of  her  great 
eyes. 

"  I  think  you  may  come  up  on  my  rock," 
she  said  simply  after  a  moment. 

They  skirted  the  base  of  the  dike  together 
until  they  had  reached  the  westernmost  side. 
There  Bennington  was  shown  the  means  of 
ascent,  which  he  had  overlooked  before  be 
cause  of  his  too  close  examination  of  the  cliff 
itself.  At  a  distance  of  about  twenty  feet  from 
the  dike  grew  a  large  pine  tree,  the  lowest 
branch  of  which  extended  directly  over  the 
little  plateau  and  about  a  foot  above  it.  Next 
to  the  large  pine  stood  two  smaller  saplings 
side  by  side  and  a  few  inches  apart.  These 
had  been  converted  into  a  ladder  by  the  nail 
ing  across  of  rustic  rounds. 


THE    SUN    FAIRY  67 

"  That's  how  I  get  up,"  explained  the  girl. 
"  Now  you  go  back  around  the  corner  again, 
and  when  I'm  ready  I'll  call." 

Bennington  obeyed.  In  a  few  moments  he 
heard  again  the  voice  in  the  air  summoning 
him  to  approach  and  climb. 

He  ascended  the  natural  ladder  easily,  but 
when  within  six  or  eight  feet  of  the  large 
branch  that  reached  across  to  the  dike,  the 
smaller  of  the  two  saplings  ceased,  and  so, 
naturally,  the  ladder  terminated. 

"Hi!"  he  called,  "how  did  you  get  up 
this?  " 

He  looked  across  the  intervening  space  ex 
pectantly,  and  then,  to  his  surprise,  he  ob 
served  that  the  girl  was  blushing  furiously. 

"  I — I,"  stammered  a  small  voice  after  a 
moment's  hesitation,  "  I  guess  I — shinnedl  " 

A  light  broke  across  Bennington's  mind  as 
to  the  origin  of  the  two  dark  streaks  on  the 
gown,  and  he  laughed.  The  girl  eyed  him 
reproachfully  for  a  moment  or  so;  then  she 
too  began  to  laugh  in  an  embarrassed  manner. 
Whereupon  Bennington  laughed  the  harder. 
He  shinned  up  the  tree,  to  find  that  an  in- 


68  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

genious  hand  rope  had  been  fitted  above  the 
bridge  limb,  so  that  the  crossing  of  the  short 
interval  to  the  rock  was  a  matter  of  no  great 
difficulty.  In  another  instant  he  stood  upon 
the  top  of  the  dike. 

It  was,  as  he  had  anticipated,  nearly  flat. 
Under  the  pine  branch,  which  might  make  a 
very  good  chair  back,  grew  a  thick  cushion  of 
moss.  The  one  tree  broke  the  freedom  of  the 
eye's  sweep  toward  the  west,  but  in  all  other 
directions  it  was  uninterrupted.  As  the  girl 
had  said,  the  tops  of  pines  alone  met  the  view, 
miles  on  miles  of  them,  undulating,  rising, 
swelling,  breaking  against  the  barrier  of  a  dike, 
or  lapping  the  foot  of  a  great  round  boulder- 
mountain.  Here  and  there  a  darker  spot  sug 
gested  a  break  for  a  mountain  peak;  rarely 
a  fleck  of  white  marked  a  mountain  road. 
Back  of  them  all — ridge,  mountain,  cavernous 
valley — towered  old  Harney,  sun-browned, 
rock-diademed,  a  few  wisps  of  cloud  streaming 
down  the  wind  from  his  brow,  locks  heavy  with 
the  age  of  the  great  Manitou  whom  he  was  sup 
posed  to  represent.  Eastward,  the  prairie  like 
a  peaceful  sea.  Above,  the  alert  sky  of  the 


THE   SUN   FAIR\  69 

west.  And  through  all  the  air  a  humming — 
vast,  murmurous,  swelling — as  the  mountain 
breeze  touched  simultaneously  with  strong 
hand  the  chords,  not  of  one,  but  a  thousand 
pine  harps. 

Bennington  drew  in  a  deep  breath,  and 
looked  about  in  all  directions.  The  girl 
watched  him. 

"  Ah!  it  is  beautiful!  "  he  murmured  at  last 
with  a  half  sigh,  and  looked  again. 

She  seized  his  hand  eagerly. 

"  Oh,  I'm  so  glad  you  said  that — and  no 
more  than  that!  "  she  cried.  "  I  feel  the  sun 
fairy  can  make  you  welcome  now." 


CHAPTER  V 

THE   SPIRIT    MOUNTAIN 

"  FROM  now  on,"  said  the  girl,  shaking  out 
her  skirts  before  sitting  down,  "  I  am  going 
to  be  a  mystery." 

"  You  are  already,"  replied  Bennington,  for 
the  first  time  aware  that  such  was  the  fact. 

"  No  fencing.  I  have  a  plain  business 
proposition  to  make.  You  and  I  are  going  to 
be  great  friends.  I  can  see  that  now." 

"  I  hope  so." 

"  And  you,  being  a — well,  an  open-minded 
young  man  "  (Now  what  does  she  mean  by 
that?  thought  Bennington),  "  will  be  asking  all 
about  myself.  I  am  going  to  tell  you  nothing. 
I  am  going  to  be  a  mystery." 

«  rm  sure " 

"  No,  you're  not  sure  of  anything,  young 
man.  Now  I'll  tell  you  this:  that  I  am  living 
down  the  gulch  with  my  people." 

"  I  know — Mr.  Lawton's." 
70 


THE   SPIRIT    MOUNTAIN  ^r 

She  looked  at  him  a  moment.  "  Exactly. 
If  you  were  to  walk  straight  ahead — not  out 
in  the  air,  of  course — you  could  see  the  roof 
of  the  house.  Now,  after  we  know  each  other 
better,  the  natural  thing  for  you  to  do  will  be 
to  come  and  see  me  at  my  house,  won't  it?  " 

Bennington  agreed  that  it  would. 

"  Well,  you  mustn't." 

Bennington  expressed  his  astonishment. 

"  I  will  explain  a  very  little.  In  a  month 
occurs  the  Pioneer's  Picnic  at  Rapid.  You 
don't  know  what  the  Pioneer's  Picnic  is? 
Ignorant  boy!  It's  our  most  important  event 
of  the  year.  Well,  until  that  time  I  am  going 
to  try  an  experiment.  I  am  going  to  see  if — 
well,  I'll  tell  you;  I  am  going  to  try  an  experi 
ment  on  a  man,  and  the  man  is  you,  and  I'll 
explain  the  whole  thing  to  you  after  the  Pio 
neer's  Picnic,  and  not  a  moment  before.  Aren't 
you  curious?  " 

"  I  am  indeed,"  Bennington  assured  her 
sincerely. 

She  took  on  a  small  air  of  tyranny.  "  Now 
understand  me.  I  mean  what  I  say.  If  you 
want  to  see  me  again,  you  must  do  as  I  tell 


72  THE  CLAIM  JUMPERS 

you.     You  must  take  me  as  I  am,  and 
must  mind  me." 

Bennington  cast  a  fleeting  wonder  over  the 
sublime  self-confidence  which  made  this  girl  so 
certain  he  would  care  to  see  her  again.  Then, 
with  a  grip  at  the  heart,  he  owned  that  the 
self-confidence  was  well  founded. 

"  All  right,"  he  assented  meekly. 

"Good!"  she  cried,  with  a  gleam  of  mis 
chief.  "  Behold  me!  Old  Bill  Lawton's  gal! 
If  you  want  to  be  pards,  put  her  thar!  " 

"  And  so  you  are  a  girl  after  all,  and  no 
sun  fairy,"  smiled  Bennington  as  he  "  put  her 
thar." 

"  My  cloud  has  melted,"  she  replied  quietly, 
pointing  toward  the  brow  of  Harney. 

They  chatted  of  small  things  for  a  time. 
Bennington  felt  intuitively  that  there  was 
something  a  little  strange  about  this  girl, some 
thing  a  little  out  of  the  ordinary,  something 
he  had  never  been  conscious  of  in  any  other 
girl.  Yet  he  could  never  seize  the  impression 
and  examine  it.  It  was  always  just  escaping; 
just  taking  shape  to  the  point  of  visibility,  and 
then  melting  away  again;  just  rising  in  the 


THE   SPIRIT   MOUNTAIN  73 

modulations  of  her  voice  to  a  murmur  that  the 
ear  thought  to  seize  as  a  definite  chord,  and 
then  dying  into  a  hundred  other  cadences.  He 
tried  to  catch  it  in  her  eyes,  where  so  much  else 
was  to  be  seen.  Sometimes  he  perceived  its  in 
fluence,  but  never  itself.  It  passed  as  a  shadow 
in  the  lower  deeps,  as  though  the  feather 
mass  of  a  great  sea  growth  had  lifted  slowly 
on  an  undercurrent,  and  then  as  slowly  had 
sunk  back  to  its  bed,  leaving  but  the  haunting 
impression  of  something  shapeless  that  had 
darkened  the  hue  of  the  waters.  It  was  most 
like  a  sadness  that  had  passed.  Perhaps  it  was 
merely  an  unconscious  trick  of  thought  or 
manner. 

After  a  time  she  asked  him  his  first  name, 
and  he  told  her. 

"  I'd  like  to  know  your's  too,  Miss  Law- 
ton,"  he  suggested. 

"  I  wish  you  wouldn't  call  me  Miss  Law- 
ton,"  she  cried  with  sudden  petulance. 

"  Why,  certainly  not,  if  you  don't  want  me 
to,  but  what  am  I  to  call  you?  " 

"  Do  you  know,"  she  confided  with  a  pretty 
little  gesture,  "  I  have  always  disliked  my  real 


74  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

name.  It's  ugly  and  horrid.  I've  often  wished 
I  were  a  heroine  in  a  book,  and  then  I  could 
have  a  name  I  really  liked.  Now  here's  a 
chance.  I'm  going  to  let  you  get  up  one  for 
me,  but  it  must  be  pretty,  and  we'll  have  it  all 
for  our  very  own." 

"  I  don't  quite  see "  objected  the  still 

conventional  de  Laney. 

'*  Your  wits,  your  wits,  haven't  you  any 
wits  at  all?  "  she  cried  with  impatience  over  his 
unresponsiveness. 

"  Well,  let  me  see.  It  isn't  easy  to  do  a 
thing  like  that  on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  Sun 
Fairy.  A  fairy's  a  fay,  isn't  it?  I  might  call 
you  Fay." 

"  Fay,"  she  repeated  in  a  startled  tone. 

Bennington  remembered  that  this  was  the 
name  of  the  curly-haired  young  man  who  had 
lent  him  the  bucking  horse,  and  frowned. 

"  No,  I  don't  believe  I  like  that,"  he  re 
canted  hastily. 

"  Take  time  and  think  about  it,"  she  sug 
gested. 

"  I  think  of  one  that  would  be  appro 
priate,"  he  said  after  some  little  time.  "  It 


THE   SPIRIT    MOUNTAIN  75 

is  suggested  by  that  little  bird  there.  It  is 
Phoebe." 

"  Do  you  think  it  is  appropriate/'  she  ob 
jected.  "  A  Phcebe  bird  or  a  Phcebe  girl  al 
ways  seemed  to  me  to  be  demure  and  quiet  and 
thoughtful  and  sweet-voiced  and  fond  of  dim 
forests,  while  I  am  a  frivolous,  laughing,  sunny 
individual  who  likes  the  open  air  and  doesn't 
care  for  shadows  at  all." 

"  Yet  I  feel  it  is  appropriate,"  he  insisted. 
He  paused  and  went  on  a  little  timidly  in  the 
face  of  his  new  experience  in  giving  expression 
to  the  more  subtle  feelings.  "  I  don't  know 
whether  I  can  express  it  or  not.  You  are 
laughing  and  sunny,  as  you  say,  but  there  is 
something  in  you  like  the  Phoebe  bird  just  the 
same.  It  is  like  those  cloud  shadows."  He 
pointed  out  over  the  mountains.  Overhead  a 
number  of  summer  clouds  were  winging  their 
way  from  the  west,  casting  on  the  earth  those 
huge  irregular  shadows  which  sweep  across 
it  so  swiftly,  yet  with  such  dignity;  so  rush- 
ingly,  and  yet  so  harmlessly.  "  The  hills  are 
sunny  and  bright  enough,  and  all  at  once 
one  of  the  shadows  crosses  them,  and  it  is 


76  THE  CLAIM  JUMPERS 

dark.  Then  in  another  moment  it  is  bright 
again." 

"  And  do  you  really  see  that  in  me?  "  she 
asked  curiously.  "  You  are  a  dear  boy,"  she 
continued,  looking  at  him  for  some  moments 
with  reflective  eyes.  "  It  won't  do  though," 
she  said,  rising  at  last.  "  It's  too  '  fancy.' ' 

"  I  don't  know  then,"  he  confessed  with 
some  helplessness. 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  I've  always  wanted  to  be 
called,"  said  she,  "  ever  since  I  was  a  little  girl. 
It  is  '  Mary.'  " 

"  Mary!  "  he  cried,  astonished.  "  Why,  it 
is  such  a  common  name." 

"  It  is  a  beautiful  name,"  she  asserted. 
"  Say  it  over.  Aren't  the  syllables  soft  anc? 
musical  and  caressing?  It  is  a  lovely  name. 
Why  I  remember,"  she  went  on  vivaciously, 
"  a  girl  who  was  named  Mary,  and  who  didn't 
like  it.  When  she  came  to  our  school  she 
changed  it,  but  she  didn't  dare  to  break  it  to 
the  family  all  at  once.  The  first  letter  home 
she  signed  herself  '  Mae.'  Her  father  wrote 
back,  '  My  dear  daughter,  if  the  name  of  the 
mother  of  Jesus  isn't  good  enough  for  you, 


THE   SPIRIT    MOUNTAIN  77 

come  home/  '  She  laughed  at  the  recollec 
tion. 

"  Then  you  have  been  away  to  school?  " 
asked  the  young  man. 

"  Yes,"  she  replied  shortly. 

She  adroitly  led  him  to  talk  of  himself.  He 
told  her  naively  of  New  York  and  tennis,  of 
brake  parties  and  clubs,  and  even  afternoon 
teas  and  balls,  all  of  which,  of  course,  interested 
a  Western  girl  exceedingly.  In  this  it  so  hap 
pened  that  his  immaturity  showed  more  plainly 
than  before.  He  did  not  boast  openly,  but  he 
introduced  extraneous  details  important  in 
themselves.  He  mentioned  knowing  Penning- 
ton  the  painter,  and  Brookes  the  writer,  merely 
in  a  casual  fashion,  but  with  just  the  faintest 
flourish.  It  somehow  became  known  that  his 
family  had  a  crest,  that  his  position  was  high; 
in  short,  that  he  was  a  de  Laney  on  both  sides. 
He  liked  to  tell  it  to  this  girl,  because  it  was 
evidently  fresh  and  new  to  her,  and  because  in 
the  presence  of  her  inexperience  in  these  mat 
ters  he  gained  a  confidence  in  himself  which 
he  had  never  dared  assume  before. 

She  looked  straight  in  front  of  her  and  lis- 


78  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

tened,  throwing  in  a  comment  now  and  then 
to  assist  the  stream  of  his  talk.  At  last,  when 
he  fell  silent,  she  reached  swiftly  out  and  patted 
his  cheek  with  her  hand. 

'  You  are  a  dear  big  boy"  she  said  quietly. 
"  But  I  like  it— oh,  so  much!  " 

From  the  tree  tops  below  the  clear  warble 
of  the  purple  finch  proclaimed  that  under  the 
fronds  twilight  had  fallen.  The  vast  green  sur 
face  of  the  hills  was  streaked  here  and  there 
with  irregular  peaks  of  darkness  dwindling 
eastward.  The  sun  was  nearly  down. 

A  sudden  gloom  blotted  out  the  fretwork 
of  the  pine  shadows  that  had,  during  the  latter 
part  of  the  afternoon,  lain  athwart  the  rock. 
They  looked  up  startled. 

The  shadow  of  Harney  had  crept  out  to 
them,  and,  even  as  they  looked,  it  stole  on,  cat 
like,  across  the  lower  ridges  toward  the  East. 
One  after  another  the  rounded  hills  changed 
hue  as  it  crossed  them.  For  a  moment  it 
lingered  in  the  tangle  of  woods  at  the  outer 
most  edge,  and  then  without  further  pause 
glided  out  over  the  prairie.  They  watched  it 
fascinated.  The  sparkle  was  quenched  in  the 


THE   SPIRIT   MOUNTAIN  79 

Cheyenne;  the  white  gleam  of  the  Bad  Lands 
became  a  dull  gray,  scarce  distinguishable  from 
the  gray  of  the  twilight.  Though  a  single  mys 
terious  cleft  a  long  yellow  bar  pointed  down 
across  the  plains,  paused  at  the  horizon,  and 
slowly  lifted  into  the  air.  The  mountain 
shadow  followed  it  steadily  up  into  the  sky, 
growing  and  growing  against  the  dullness  of 
the  east,  until  at  last  over  against  them  in  the 
heavens  was  the  huge  phantom  of  a  mountain, 
infinitely  greater,  infinitely  grander  than  any 
mountain  ever  seen  by  mortal  eyes,  and  lifting 
higher  and  higher,  commanded  upward  by  that 
single  wand  of  golden  light.  Then  suddenly 
the  wand  was  withdrawn  and  the  ghost  moun 
tain  merged  into  the  yellow  afterglow  of 
evening. 

The  girl  had  watched  it  breathless.  At  its 
dissolution  she  seized  the  young  man  excitedly 
by  the  arm. 

"The  Spirit  Mountain!"  she  cried.  "I 
have  never  seen  it  before;  and  now  I  see  it — 
with  you." 

She  looked  at  him  with  startled  eyes. 

"  With  you,"  she  repeated. 


8O  THE  CLAIM  JUMPERS 

"  What  is  it?    I  don't  understand." 

She  did  not  seem  to  hear  his  question. 

"  What  is  it?  "  he  asked  again. 

"  Why — nothing."  She  caught  her  breath 
and  recovered  command  of  herself  somewhat. 
"  That  is,  it  is  just  an  old  legend  that  I  have 
often  heard,  and  it  startled  me  for  a  minute." 

"  Will  you  tell  me  the  legend?  " 

"  Not  now;  some  time.  We  must  go  now, 
for  it  will  soon  be  dark." 

They  wandered  along  the  ridge  toward 
Deerfoot  Gulch  in  silence.  She  had  taken  her 
sunbonnet  off,  and  was  enjoying  the  cool  of 
the  evening.  He  carried  the  rifle  over  the 
crook  of  his  arm,  and  watched  her  pensive 
face.  The  poor  little  chipmunk  lay  stiffening 
in  the  cleft  of  the  rock,  forgotten.  The  next 
morning  a  prying  jay  discovered  him  and  car 
ried  him  away.  He  was  only  a  little  chipmunk 
after  all — a  very  little  chipmunk — and  nobody 
and  nothing  missed  him  in  all  the  wide  world, 
not  even  his  mate  and  his  young,  for  mercifully 
grief  in  the  animal  world  is  generally  short 
lived  where  tragedies  are  frequent.  His  life 
meant  little.  His  death 


THE   SPIRIT   MOUNTAIN  gr 

At  the  dip  of  the  gulch  they  paused. 

"  I  live  just  down  there,"  she  said,  "  and 
now,  good-night." 

"  Mayn't  I  take  you  home?  " 

"  Remember  your  promise." 

"  Oh,  very  well." 

She  looked  at  him  seriously.  "  I  am  going 
to  ask  you  to  do  what  I  have  never  asked  any 
man  before,"  she  said  slowly — "  to  meet  me.  I 
want  you  to  come  to  the  rock  to-morrow  after 
noon.  I  want  to  hear  more  about  New  York/' 

"  Of  course  I'll  come,"  he  agreed  delight 
edly.  "  I  feel  as  if  I  had  known  you  years 
already." 

They  said  good-bye.  She  walked  a  few 
steps  irresolutely  down  the  hillside,  and  then, 
with  a  sudden  impulsive  movement,  returned. 
She  lifted  her  face  gravely,  searchingly  to  his. 

"  I  like  you,"  said  she  earnestly.  "  You 
have  kind  eyes,"  and  was  gone  down  through 
the  graceful  alder  saplings. 

Bennington  stood  and  watched  the  sway 
ing  of  the  leaf  tops  that  marked  her  progress 
until  she  emerged  into  the  lower  gulch.  There 
she  turned  and  looked  back  toward  the  ridge, 


g2  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

but  apparently  could  not  see  him,  though  he 
waved  his  hand.  The  next  instant  Jim  Fay 
strolled  into  the  "  park  "  from  the  direction  of 
Lawton's  cabin.  Bennington  saw  her  spring- 
to  meet  him,  holding  out  both  hands,  and  then 
the  two  strolled  back  down  the  gulch  talking 
earnestly,  their  heads  close  together. 

Why  should  he  care?  "  Mary,  Mary, 
Mary!"  he  cried  within  himself  as  he  hurried 
home.  And  in  remote  burial  grounds  the  an 
cient  de  Laneys  on  both  sides  turned  over  in 
their  lead-lined  coffins. 


CHAPTER  VI 

BENNINGTON   AS   A   MAN    OF    BUSINESS 

THAT  evening  Old  Mizzou  returned  from 
town  with  a  watery  eye  and  a  mind  that  ran 
to  horses. 

"  He  is  shore  a  fine  cayuse,"  he  asserted 
with  extreme  impressiveness.  "  He  is  one  of 
them  broncs  you  jest  loves.  An'  he's  jes  's 
cheap!  I  likes  you  a  lot,  sonny;  I  deems  you 
as  a  face-card  shore,  an'  ef  any  one  ever  tries 
fer  to  climb  yore  hump,  you  jest  calls  on  pore 
Old  Mizzou  an'  he  mingles  in  them  troubles 
immediate.  You  must  have  that  cayuse  an' 
go  scoutin'  in  th'  hills,  yo'  shore  must!  Ol' 
man  Davidson  '11  do  th'  work  fer  ye,  but  ye 
shore  must  scout.  'Taint  healthy  not  t'  git 
exercise  on  a  cayuse.  It  shorely  ain't!  An' 
you  must  git  t'  know  these  yar  hills,  you  must. 
They  is  beautiful  an'  picturesque,  and  is  full 
of  scenery.  When  you  goes  back  East,  you 

wants  to  know  all  about  'em.     I  wouldn't  hev 

83 


84  THE  CLAIM  JUMPERS 

you  go  back  East  without  knowin'  all  about 
'em  for  anythin'  in  the  woiT,  I  likes  ye  thet 
much!" 

Old  Mizzou  paused  to  wipe  away  a  sym 
pathetic  tear  with  a  rather  uncertain  hand. 

"  Y'  wants  to  start  right  off  too,  thet's  th' 
worst  of  it,  so's  t'  see  'em  all  afore  you  goes, 
'cause  they  is  lots  of  hills  and  I'm  'feared  you 
won't  stay  long,  sonny;  I  am  that!  I  has  my 
ideas  these  yar  claims  is  no  good,  I  has  fer  a 
fact,  and  they  won't  need  no  one  here  long,  and 
then  we'll  lose  ye,  sonny,  so  you  mus'  shore 
hev  that  cayuse." 

Old  Mizzou  rambled  on  in  like  fashion  most 
of  the  evening,  to  Bennington's  great  amuse 
ment,  and,  though  next  morning  he  was  quite 
himself  again,  he  still  clung  to  the  idea  that 
Bennington  should  examine  the  pony. 

"  He  is  a  fine  bronc,  fer  shore,"  he  claimed, 
"  an'  you'd  better  git  arter  him  afore  some  one 
else  gits  him." 

As  Bennington  had  for  some  time  tenta 
tively  revolved  in  his  mind  the  desirability  of 
something  to  ride,  this  struck  him  as  being  a 
good  idea.  All  Westerners  had  horses — in  the 


BENNINGTON  AS  A  MAN  OF   BUSINESS      85 

books.  So  he  abandoned  Aliris:  A  Romance  of 
all  Time,  for  the  morning,  and  drove  down  to 
Spanish  Gulch  with  Old  Mizzou. 

He  was  mentally  braced  for  devilment,  but 
his  arch-enemy,  Fay,  was  not  in  sight.  To  his 
surprise,  he  got  to  the  post  office  quite  with 
out  molestation.  There  he  was  handed  two 
letters.  One  was  from  his  parents.  The  other, 
his  first  business  document,  proved  to  be  from 
the  mining  capitalist.  The  latter  he  found  to 
inclose  separate  drafts  for  various  amounts  in 
favour  of  six  men.  Bishop  wrote  that  the 
young  man  was  to  hand  these  drafts  to  their 
owners,  and  to  take  receipts  for  the  amounts 
of  each.  He  promised  a  further  installment  in 
a  few  weeks. 

Bennington  felt  very  important.  He 
looked  the  letter  all  over  again,  and  examined 
the  envelope  idly.  The  Spanish  Gulch  post 
mark  bore  date  of  the  day  before. 

"  That's  funny,"  said  Bennington  to  him 
self.  "  I  wonder  why  Mizzou  didn't  bring  it 
up  with  him  last  night?"  Then  he  remembered 
the  old  man's  watery  eye  and  laughed.  "  I 
guess  I  know,"  he  thought. 


86  THE  CLAIM  JUMPERS 

The  next  thing  was  to  find  the  men  named 
in  the  letter.  He  did  not  know  them  from 
Adam.  Mizzou  saw  no  difficulty,  however, 
when  the  matter  was  laid  before  him. 

"They're  in  th'  Straight  Flush!"  he  as 
serted  positively. 

This  was  astounding.  How  should  Old 
Mizzou  know  that? 

"  I  don't  exactly  know,"  the  old  man  ex 
plained  this  discrepancy,  "  but  they  general 
ly  is!" 

"  Don't  they  ever  work?  " 

"  Work's  purty  slack,"  crawfished  David 
son.  "  But  I  tells  you  I  don't  know.  We  has 
to  find  out,"  and  he  shuffled  away  toward  the 
saloon. 

Anybody  but  Bennington  would  have  sus 
pected  something.  There  was  the  delayed 
letter,  the  supernatural  knowledge  of  Old  Miz 
zou,  the  absence  of  Fay.  Even  the  Easterner 
might  have  been  puzzled  to  account  for  the 
crowded  condition  of  the  Straight  Flush  at  ten 
in  the  morning,  if  his  attention  had  not  been 
quite  fully  occupied  in  posing  before  himself 
as  the  man  of  business. 


BENNINGTON   AS   A    MAN   OF   BUSINESS      S) 

When  Mizzou  and  his  companion  entered 
the  room,  the  hum  of  talk  died,  and  every  one 
turned  expectantly  in  the  direction  of  the  new- 
comers. 

"  Gents,"  said  Old  Mizzou,  "  this  is  Mr. 
de  Laney,  th'  new  superintendent  of  th'  Holy 
Smoke.  Mr.  de  Laney,  gents!" 

There  was  a  nodding  of  heads. 

Every  one  looked  eagerly  expectant.  The 
man  behind  the  bar  turned  back  his  cuffs.  De 
Laney,  feeling  himself  the  centre  of  observa 
tion,  grew  nervous.  He  drew  from  his  pocket 
Bishop's  letter,  and  read  out  the  five  names. 
"  I'd  like  to  see  those  men,"  he  said. 

The  men  designated  came  forward.  After 
a  moment's  conversation,  the  six  adjourned  to 
the  hotel,  where  paper  and  ink  could  be  pro 
cured. 

After  their  exit  a  silence  fell,  and  the  miners 
looked  at  each  other  with  ludicrous  faces. 

"  An'  he  never  asked  us  to  take  a  drink!  " 
exclaimed  one  sorrowfully.  "  That  settles  it. 
It  may  not  be  fer  th'  good  of  th'  camp,  Jim 
Fay,  but  I  reckons  it  ain't  much  fer  th'  harm 
of  it.  I  goes  you." 


88  THE  CLAIM  JUMPERS 

"  Me  to,"  "  and  me,"  "  and  me,"  shouted 
other  voices. 

Fay  leaped  on  the  bar  and  spread  his  arms 
abroad. 

"  Speech!    Speech!  "  they  cried. 

"  Gentlemen  of  the  great  and  glorious 
West!  "  he  began.  "  It  rejoices  me  to  observe 
this  spirit  animating  your  bosoms.  Trampling 
down  the  finer  feelings  that  you  all  possess  to 
such  an  unlimited  degree,  putting  aside  all 
thought  of  merely  material  prosperity,  you  are 
now  prepared,  at  whatever  cost,  to  ally  your 
selves  with  that  higher  poetic  justice  which  is 
above  barter,  above  mere  expediency,  above 
even  the  ordinary  this-for-that  fairness  which 
often  passes  as  justice  among  the  effete  and 
unenlightened  savages  of  the  East.  Gentle 
men  of  the  great  and  glorious  West,  I  con 
gratulate  you! " 

The  miners  stood  close  around  the  bar. 
Every  man's  face  bore  a  broad  grin.  At  this 
point  they  interrupted  with  howls  and  cat-calls 
of  applause.  "Ain't  he  a  peachl"  said  one  to 
another,  and  composed  himself  again  to  listen. 
At  the  conclusion  of  a  long  harangue  they 


BENNINGTON  AS  A  MAN  OF   BUSINESS      89 

yelled  enthusiastically,  and  immediately  began 
the  more  informal  discussion  of  what  was  evi 
dently  a  popular  proposition.  When  the  five 
who  had  been  paid  off  returned,  everybody  had 
a  drink,  while  the  newcomers  were  made  ac 
quainted  with  the  subject.  Old  Mizzou,  who 
had  listened  silently  but  with  a  twinkle  in  his 
eye,  went  to  hunt  up  Bennington. 

They  examined  the  horse  together.  The 
owner  named  thirty  dollars  as  his  price.  Old 
Mizzou  said  this  was  cheap.  It  was  not.  Ben 
nington  agreed  to  take  the  animal  on  trial  for 
a  day  or  two,  so  they  hitched  a  lariat  around 
its  neck  and  led  it  over  to  the  wagon.  After 
despatching  a  few  errands  they  returned  to 
camp.  Bennington  got  out  his  ledger  and 
journal  and  made  entries  importantly.  Old 
Mizzou  disappeared  in  the  direction  of  the  cor 
ral,  where  he  was  joined  presently  by  the  man 
Arthur. 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE    MEETING    AT   THE    ROCK 

ON  his  way  to  keep  the  appointment  of  the 
afternoon,  Bennington  de  Laney  discovered 
within  himself  a  new  psychological  experience. 
He  found  that,  since  the  evening  before,  he 
had  been  observing  things  about  him  for  the 
purpose  of  detailing  them  to  his  new  friend. 
Little  beauties  of  nature — as  when  a  strange 
bird  shone  for  an  instant  in  vivid  contrast  to 
the  mountain  laurel  near  his  window;  an  un 
usual  effect  of  pine  silhouettes  near  the  sky; 
a  weird,  semi-poetic  suggestion  of  one  of  Poe's 
stories  implied  in  a  contorted  shadow  cast  by 
a  gnarled  little  oak  in  the  light  of  the  moon — 
these  he  had  noticed  and  remembered,  and 
was  now  eager  to  tell  his  companion,  with  full 
assurance  of  her  sympathy  and  understand 
ing.  Three  days  earlier  he  would  have  passed 
them  by. 

But  stranger  still  was  his  discovery  that  he 

QO 


THE   MEETING  AT   THE   ROCK  91 

had  always  noticed  such  things,  and  had  re 
membered  them.  Observations  of  the  sort  had 
heretofore  been  quite  unconscious.  Without 
knowing  it  he  had  always  been  a  Nature  lover, 
one  who  appreciated  the  poetry  of  her  moods, 
one  who  saw  the  beauty  of  her  smiles,  or,  what 
is  more  rare,  the  greater  beauty  of  her  frown. 
The  influence  had  entered  into  his  being,  but 
had  lain  neglected.  Now  it  stole  forth  as  the 
odour  of  a  dried  balsam  bough  steals  from  the 
corner  of  a  loft  whither  it  has  been  thrown  care 
lessly.  It  was  all  delightful  and  new,  and  he 
wanted  to  tell  her  of  it. 

He  did  so.  After  a  little  he  told  her  about 
Aliris:  A  Romance  of  all  Time,  in  which  she 
appeared  so  interested  that  he  detailed  the  main 
idea  and  the  plot.  At  her  request,  he  prom 
ised  to  read  it  to  her.  He  was  very  young, 
you  see,  and  very  inexperienced;  he  threw  him 
self  generously,  without  reserve,  on  this  girl's 
sympathies  in  a  manner  of  which,  assuredly,  he 
should  have  been  quite  ashamed.  Only  the 
very  young  are  not  ashamed. 

The  girl  listened,  at  first  half  amused. 
Then  she  was  touched,  for  she  saw  that  it  was 


g2  THE  CLAIM  JUMPERS 

sincere,  and  youthful,  and  indicative  of  clear 
faith  in  what  is  beautiful,  and  in  fine  ideals 
of  what  is  fitting.  Perhaps,  dimly,  she  per 
ceived  that  this  is  good  stuff  of  which  to  make 
a  man,  provided  it  springs  from  immaturity, 
and  not  from  the  sentimentalism  of  degeneracy. 
The  loss  of  it  is  a  price  we  pay  for  wisdom. 
Some  think  the  price  too  high. 

As  he  talked  on  in  this  moonshiny  way, 
really  believing  his  ridiculous  abstractions  the 
most  important  things  in  the  world,  gradually 
she  too  became  young.  She  listened  with 
parted  lips,  and  in  her  great  eyes  the  soul  rose 
and  rose  within,  clearing  away  the  surface 
moods  as  twilight  clears  the  land  of  everything 
but  peace. 

He  was  telling  of  the  East  again  with  a 
certain  felicity  of  expression — have  we  not  said 
he  had  the  gift  of  words? — and  an  abandon  of 
sentiment  which  showed  how  thoroughly  he 
confided  in  the  sympathy  of  his  listener.  When 
we  are  young  we  are  apt  to  confide  in  the  sym 
pathy  of  every  listener,  and  so  we  make  fools 
of  ourselves,  and  it  takes  us  a  long  time  to  live 
down  our  reputations.  As  we  grow  older,  we 


THE   MEETING   AT   THE   ROCK  93 

believe  less  and  less  in  its  reality.  Perhaps  by 
and  by  we  do  not  trust  to  anybody's  sym 
pathy,  not  even  our  own. 

"  We  have  an  old  country  place,"  he  was 
saying;  "  it  belonged  to  my  grandfather.  My 
grandfather  came  by  it  when  the  little  town 
was  very  small  indeed,  so  he  built  an  old-fash 
ioned  stone  house  and  surrounded  it  with  large 
grounds."  He  was  seeing  the  stone  house  and 
the  large  grounds  with  that  new  inner  observa 
tion  which  he  had  just  discovered,  and  he  was 
trying  to  the  best  of  his  ability  to  tell  what 
he  saw.  After  a  little  he  spoke  more  rhythmic 
ally.  Many  might  have  thought  he  spoke  sen 
timentally,  because  with  feeling;  but  in  reality 
he  was  merely  trying  with  great  earnestness 
for  expression.  A  jarring  word  would  have 
brought  him  back  to  his  everyday  mood,  but 
for  the  time  being  he  was  wrapt  in  what  he 
saw.  This  is  a  condition  which  all  writers,  and 
some  lovers,  will  recognise.  "  Now  the  place 
is  empty — except  in  summer — except  that  we 
have  an  old  woman  who  lives  tucked  away  in 
one  corner  of  it.  I  lived  there  one  summer  just 
after  I  finished  college.  Outside  my  window 


94  THE  CLAIM   JUMPERS 

there  was  an  apple  tree  that  just  brushed 
against  the  ledge;  there  were  rose  vines,  the 
climbing  sort,  on  the  wall;  and  then,  too,  there 
was  a  hickory  tree  that  towered  'way  over  the 
roof.  In  the  front  yard  is  what  is  known  all 
over  town  as  the  *  big  tree,'  a  silver  maple, 
at  least  twice  as  tall  as  the  house.  It  is  so 
broad  that  its  shade  falls  over  the  whole  front 
of  the  place.  In  the  back  is  an  orchard  of  old 
apple  trees,  and  trellises  of  big  blue  grapes.  On 
one  side  is  a  broad  lawn,  at  the  back  of  which 
is  one  of  the  good  old-fashioned  flower  gardens 
that  does  one  good  to  look  at.  There  are  little 
pink  primroses  dotting  the  sod,  sweet-william, 
lavender,  nasturtiums,  sweet  peas,  hollyhocks, 
bachelor's  buttons,  portulaca,  and  a  row  of  tall 
sunflowers,  the  delight  of  a  sleepy  colony  of 
hens.  I  learned  all  the  flowers  that  summer." 
He  clasped  his  hands  comfortably  back  of  his 
head  and  looked  at  her.  She  was  gazing  out 
over  the  Bad  Lands  to  the  East.  "  In  the 
very  centre,  as  a  sort  of  protecting  nurse  to  all 
the  littler  flowers,"  he  went  on,  "  is  a  big  lilac 
bush,  and  there  the  bees  and  humming  birds 
are  thick  on  a  warm  spring  day.  There  are 


THE    MEETING  AT   THE   ROCK  95 

plenty  of  birds  too,  but  I  didn't  know  so  many 
of  them.  They  nested  everywhere — in  the  '  big 
tree/  the  orchard,  the  evergreens,  the  hedges, 
and  in  the  long  row  of  maple  trees  with  trunks 
as  brg  as  a  barrel  and  limbs  that  touch  across 
the  street." 

"It    must    be    beautiful!"    said    the    girl 
quietly  without  looking  around. 

Then   he   began  to   "  suppose."     This,   as 
every  woman  knows,  is  dangerous  business. 

"  It  was  beautiful,"  said  he.  "  I  can't  tell, 
you  about  it.  The  words  don't  seem  to  fit 
some  way.  I  wish  you  could  see  it  for  your 
self.  I  know  you'd  enjoy  it.  I  always  wanted 
some  one  with  me  to  enjoy  it  too.  Suppose 
some  way  we  were  placed  so  we  could  watch 
the  year  go  by  in  those  deep  windows.  First 
there  is  the  spring  and  the  birds  and  the 
flowers,  all  of  which  I've  been  talking  about. 
Then  there  is  the  summer,  when  the  shades  are 
drawn,  when  the  shadows  of  the  roses  wave 
slowly  across  the  curtains,  when  the  air  out 
side  quivers  with  heat,  and  the  air  inside  tastes 
like  a  draught  of  cool  water.  All  the  bird 
songs  are  stilled  except  that  one  little  fellow 


g6  THE   CLAIM  JUMPERS 

still  warbles,  swaying  in  the  breeze  on  the  tip 
top  of  the  '  big  tree/  his  notes  sliding  down 
the  long  sunbeams  like  beads  on  a  golden 
thread.  Then  we  would  read  together,  in  the 
half-darkened  '  parlour,'  something  not  very 
deep,  but  beautiful,  like  Hawthorne's  stories; 
or  we  would  together  seek  for  these  perfect 
lines  of  poetry  which  haunt  the  memory.  In 
the  evening  we  would  go  out  to  hear  the 
crickets  and  the  tree  toads,  to  see  the  night 
breeze  toss  the  leaves  across  the  calm  face  of 
the  moon,  to  be  silenced  in  spirit  by  the  peace 
of  the  stars.  Then  the  autumn  would  come. 
We  would  taste  the  '  Concords  '  and  the  little 
red  grapes  and  the  big  red  grapes.  We  would 
take  our  choice  of  the  yellow  sweetings,  the 
hard  white  snow  apples,  or  the  little  red- 
cheeked  fellows  from  the  west  tree.  And  then, 
of  course,  there  are  the  russets!  Then  there 
are  the  pears,  and  all  the  hickory  nuts  which 
rattle  down  on  us  every  time  the  wind  blows. 
The  leaves  are  everywhere.  We  would  rake 
them  up  into  big  piles,  and  jump  into  them, 
and  '  swish  '  about  in  them.  How  bracing  the 
air  is!  How  silvery  the  sun!  How  red  your 


THE   MEETING   AT   THE    ROCK  97 

cheeks  would  get!      And  think  of  the  bon 
fires!  " 

"  And  in  winter?  "  murmured  the  girl.  Her 
eyes  were  shining. 

"  In  the  winter  the  wind  would  howl 
through  the  '  big  tree/  and  everything  would 
be  bleak  and  cold  out  doors.  We  would  be 
inside,  of  course,  and  we  would  sit  on  the  fur 
rug  in  front  of  the  fireplace,  while  the  evening 
passed  by,  watching  the  '  geese  in  the  chim 
ney  '  flying  slowly  away." 

" '  Suppose '  some  more,"  she  begged 
dreamily.  "  I  love  it.  It  rests  me." 

She  clasped  her  hands  back  of  her  head 
and  closed  her  eyes. 

The  young  man  looked  quietly  about 
him. 

"  This  is  a  wild  and  beautiful  country,"  said 
he,  "  but  it  lacks  something.  I  think  it  is  the 
soul.  The  little  wood  lots  of  the  East  have  so 
much  of  it."  He  paused  in  surprise  at  his  own 
thoughts.  His  only  experiences  in  the  woods 
East  had  been  when  out  picnicking,  or  berry 
ing,  and  he  had  never  noticed  these  things.  "  I 
don't  know  as  I  ever  thought  of  it  there,"  he 


^8  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

went  on  slowly,  as  though  trying  to  be  honest 
with  her,  "  but  here  it  comes  to  me  somehow 
or  another."  A  little  fly-catcher  shot  up  from 
the  frond  below,  poised  a  moment,  and 
dropped  back  with  closed  wings. 

"  Do  you  know  the  birds?  "  she  asked. 

"  I'm  afraid  not,"  he  admitted;  "  I  don't 
really  know  much  about  Nature,  but  I  love  it, 
and  I'm  going  to  learn  more.  I  know  only  the 
very  common  birds,  and  one  other.  Did  you 
ever  hear  the  hermit  thrush  sing?  " 

"  Never." 

"Oh!"  he  cried  in  sudden  enthusiasm, 
"  then  there  is  another  f  suppose  '  for  us,  the 
best  of  all." 

"  I  love  the  dear  old  house!  "  she  objected 
doubtfully. 

"  But  the  hermit  thrush  is  better.  The  old 
country  minister  took  me  to  hear  him  one  Sun 
day  afternoon  and  I  shall  never  forget  it." 

She  glanced  at  his  animated  face  through 
half-closed  eyes. 

"  Tell  me,"  she  urged  softly. 

"  '  Suppose  '  we  were  back  East,"  he  began, 
"  and  in  the  country,  just  about  this  time  of 


THE   MEETING   AT   THE   ROCK  99 

year.  We  would  wait  until  the  afternoon — 
why!  just  about  this  time,  when  the  sun  is 
getting  low.  We  would  push  through  the 
bushes  at  the  edge  of  the  woods  where  the 
little  tinkling  birds  sing  in  the  fence  corners, 
and  would  enter  the  deep  high  woods  where 
the  trees  are  tall  and  still.  The  moss  is  thick 
and  soft  in  there,  and  there  are  little  pools 
lying  calm  and  dark,  and  there  is  a  kind  of  a 
hush  in  the  air — not  silence,  you  know,  but 
like  when  a  big  crowd  of  people  are  keeping 
still.  And  then  we  would  walk  very  carefully, 
and  speak  low,  and  we  would  sit  by  the  side  of 
a  fallen  log  and  wait.  After  a  while  the  thrush 
would  sing,  a  deep  note,  with  a  thrill  in  it,  like 
a  bell  slow  and  solemn.  When  you  hear  it  you 
too  feel  a  thrill  as  though  you  had  heard  a 
great  and  noble  thought.  Why,  it  is  almost 
holy  I" 

He  turned  to  the  girl.  She  was  looking 
at  him. 

"Why,  hullo!"  he  exclaimed,  "what's  the 
matter?  " 

Her  eyes  were  brimming  with  tears. 

"  Nothing,"  she  said.    "  I  never  heard  a  man 


100  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

talk  as  you  have  been  talking,  that  is  all.  The 
rest  of  them  are  cynical  and  hard  and  cold. 
They  would  be  ashamed  to  say  the  things  you 
have  said.  No,  no!  "  she  cried,  laying  her  hand 
on  his  arm  as  he  made  a  little  uneasy  move 
ment,  "  do  not  misunderstand  me.  I  like  it. 
I  love  it.  It  does  me  good.  I  had  lost 
faith.  It  is  not  nice  to  know  the  other 
kind— well." 

"  You  speak  bitterly,"  he  expostulated. 

She  laughed.  "  It  is  a  common  experi 
ence  enough.  Pray  that  you  may  never  know 
it.  I  began  as  a  little  child,  loving  and  trust 
ing  every  one,  and  giving  my  full  free  heart  and 
confidence  to  every  one  who  offered  his  best  to 
me.  All  I  can  say  is,  that  I  am  thankful  for 
you  that  you  have  escaped  the  suffering  such 
blind  trust  leads  to." 

She  laughed  again,  bitterly,  and  threw  her 
arms  out. 

"  I  suppose  I  shall  go  on  trusting  people 
forever.  It's  in  my  nature,  and  I  can't  help 
it." 

"  I  hope  you  will  feel  you  can  trust  me," 
said  he,  troubled  at  this  passion  so  much  be- 


THE   MEETING   AT    THE    ROCK  fQl 

yond  his  experience.     "  I  would  do  anything 
for  you." 

"Do!    do!"     she    cried    with    contempt. 
'  Yes.      Any  number  of  people  will  do  any 
thing  for  me.    I  want  some  one  to  be  for  me!  " 

"  I'm  so  sorry!  "  he  said  simply,  but  with 
great  feeling. 

"  Don't  pity  me,  don't  believe  in  me!  "  she 
cried  suddenly  in  a  passion.  "  I  am  not  worth 
it.  I  am  cruel  and  hard  and  cold,  and  I'll  never 
care  for  anybody  in  any  way.  My  nature  has 
been  hardened.  I  can't  be  good.  I  can't  care 
for  people.  I  can't  think  of  giving  way  to  it. 
It  frightens  me." 

She  burst  into  sudden  tears  and  sobbed 
convulsively.  In  a  moment  she  became  calm. 
Then  she  took  her  hands  from  her  eyes  and 
smiled.  In  the  distress  of  his  sympathy  Ben- 
nington  thought  he  had  never  seen  anything 
more  beautiful  than  this  breaking  forth  of  the 
light. 

'*  You   must   think   I   am   a   very   peculiar 
young  person,"  she  said,  "  but   I  told  you  I 
was  a  mystery.      I  am  a  little  tired  to-day 
that's  all." 


102  •  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

The  conversation  took  a  lighter  tone  and 
ran  on  the  subject  of  the  new  horse.  She  was 
much  interested,  inquiring  of  his  colour,  his 
size,  his  gaits,  whether  he  had  been  tried. 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  we  will  do,"  she  sug 
gested;  "we'll  go  on  an  expedition  some  day. 
I  have  a  pony  too.  We  will  fill  up  our  saddle 
bags  and  cook  our  own  dinner.  I  know  a  nice 
little  place  over  toward  Blue  Lead." 

"  I've  one  suggestion  to  add,"  put  in 
Bennington,  "  and  that  is,  that  we  go  to 
morrow." 

She  looked  a  trifle  doubtful. 

"  I  don't  know.  Aren't  we  seeing  a  good 
deal  of  each  other?  " 

"  Oh,  if  it  is  going  to  bore  you,  by  all  means 
put  it  off! "  cried  Bennington  in  genuine 
alarm. 

She  laughed  contentedly  over  his  way  of 
looking  at  it.  "  I'm  not  tired  then,  so  please 
you;  and  when  I  am,  I'll  let  you  know.  To 
morrow  it  is." 

"  Shall  I  come  after  you?  What  time  shall 
I  start?" 

"  No,    I'd    rather    meet    you    somewhere. 


THE   MEETING   AT   THE   ROCK  IO3 

Let's  see.  You  watch  for  me,  and  I'll  ride  by 
in  the  lower  gulch  about  nine  o'clock." 

"  Very  well.  By  the  way,  the  band's  going 
to  practise  in  town  to-night.  Don't  you  want 
to  go?  " 

"  I'd  like  to,  but  I  promised  Jim  I'd  go 
with  him." 

"  Jim?  " 

"  Jim  Fay." 

Bennington  felt  this  as  a  discordant 
note. 

"  Do  you  know  him  very  well?  "  he  asked 
jealously. 

"  He's  my  best  friend.  I  like  him  very 
much.  He  is  a  fine  fellow.  You  must  meet 
him." 

"  I've  met  him,"  said  Bennington  shortly. 

"  Now  you  must  go,"  she  commanded,  after 
a  pause.  "  I  want  to  stay  here  for  a  while. 
"  No,"  as  he  opened  his  mouth  to  object.  "  I 
mean  it!  Please  be  good!  " 

After  he  had  gone  she  sat  still  until  sun 
down.  Once  she  shook  her  shoulders  im 
patiently.  "It  is  sillyl"  she  assured  herself. 
As  before,  the  shadow  of  Harney  crept  out  to 


THE  CLAIM   JUMPERS 

the  horizon's  edge.     There  it  stopped.     Twi 
light  fell. 

"  No  Spirit  Mountain  to-night,"  she  mur 
mured  wistfully  at  last.  "  Almost  do  I  believe 
in  the  old  legend." 


CHAPTER  VIII 

AN    ADVENTURE    IN    THE    NIGHT 

AFTER  supper  that  night  Bennington 
found  himself  unaccountably  alone  in  camp. 
Old  Mizzou  had  wandered  off  up  the  gulch. 
Arthur  had  wandered  off  down  the  gulch.  The 
woman  had  locked  herself  in  her  cabin. 

So,  having  nothing  else  to  do,  he  got  out  the 
manuscript  of  Aliris:  A  Romance  of  all  Time, 
and  read  it  through  carefully  from  the  begin 
ning.  To  his  surprise  he  found  it  very  poor. 
Its  language  was  felicitous  in  some  spots,  but 
stilted  in  most;  the  erudition  was  pedantic,  and 
dragged  in  by  the  ears;  the  action  was  idiotic; 
and  the  proportions  were  padded  until  they  no 
longer  existed  as  proportions.  He  was  as 
tounded.  He  began  to  see  that  he  had  mis 
conceived  the  whole  treatment  of  it.  It  would 
have  to  be  written  all  over  again,  with  the  love 

story  as  the  ruling  motif.    He  felt  very  capable 

105 


106  THE  CLAIM  JUMPERS 

of  doing  the  love  story.  He  drew  some  paper 
toward  him  and  began  to  write. 

You  see  he  was  already  developing.  Every 
time  a  writer  is  made  to  appreciate  that  his 
work  is  poor  he  has  taken  a  step  in  advance 
of  it.  Although  he  did  not  know  that  was 
the  reason  of  it,  Bennington  perceived  the 
deficiencies  of  Aliris,  because  he  had  promised 
to  read  it  to  the  girl.  He  saw  it  through 
her  eyes. 

The  young  man  became  absorbed  in  re- 
describing  the  heroine  with  violet  eyes.  A 
sudden  slamming  of  the  door  behind  him 
brought  him,  startled,  to  his  feet.  He  laughed, 
and  was  about  to  sit  down  again,  but  noticed 
that  the  door  had  remained  open.  He  arose 
to  shut  it.  Over  the  trunks  of  the  nearer 
pines  played  a  strange  flickering  light,  throw 
ing  them  now  into  relief,  now  into  shadow. 
"  Strange!  "  murmured  Bennington  to  himself, 
and  stepped  outside  to  investigate.  As  he 
crossed  the  sill  he  was  seized  on  either  side. 

He  cried  out  and  struggled  blindly,  but 
was  held  as  in  a  vice.  His  captors,  whom  he 
dimly  perceived  to  be  large  men  in  masks, 


AN   ADVENTURE   IN   THE   NIGHT 


107 


whirled  him  sharply  to  the  left,  and  he  found 
himself  face  to  face  with  a  third  man,  also 
masked.  Beyond  him  were  a  score  or  so  more, 
some  of  whom  bore  pine  torches,  which,  partly 
blazing  and  partly  smoking,  served  to  cast  the 
weird  light  he  had  seen  flickering  on  the  tree 
trunks.  Perfect  silence  reigned.  The  man 
with  whom  Bennington  was  fronted  eyed  him 
gravely  through  the  holes  in  his  mask. 

"  I'd  like  to  know  what  this  means?  "  broke 
out  the  Easterner  angrily. 

The  men  did  not  reply.  They  stood  mo 
tionless,  as  silent  as  the  night.  In  spite  of  his 
indignation,  the  young  man  was  impressed. 
He  twisted  his  shoulders  again.  The  men  at 
either  arm  never  tightened  a  muscle  to  resist, 
and  yet  he  was  held  beyond  the  possibility  of 
escape. 

"What's  the  matter?  What're  you  try 
ing  to  do?  Take  your  hands  off  me!  "  he 
cried. 

Again  the  silence  fell. 

Then  at  the  end  of  what  seemed  to  the 
Easterner  a  full  minute  the  masked  figure  in 

front  spoke. 
8 


108  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

"  Thar  is  them  that  thinks  as  how  it  ain't 
noways  needful  thet  ye  knows/'  it  said  in  slow 
and  solemn  accents,  "  but  by  the  mercy  of  th' 
others  we  gives  y'  thet  much  satisfaction. 

'  You  comes  hyar  from  a  great  corp'ration 
thet  in  times  gone  by  we  thinks  is  public 
spirited  an'  enterprising  which  is  a  mistake. 
You  pays  th'  debt  of  said  corp'ration,  so  they 
sez,  an'  tharfore  we  welcomes  you  to  our 
bosom  cordial.  What  happens?'  You  insults 
us  by  paying  such  low-down  ornary  cusses  as 
Snowie.  Th'  camp  is  just.  She  arises  an' 
avenges  said  insult  by  stringin'  of  you  up  all 
right  an'  proper.  We  orives  you  five  minutes 
to  get  ready." 

"  What  do  you  mean?  " 
"  We  hangs  you  in  five  minutes." 
The  slow,  even  voice  ceased,  and  again  the 
silence    was    broken    only    by    the    occasional 
bursting  crackle  of  a  blister  in  the  pine  torches. 
Bennington  tried  to  realize  the  situation.     It 
had  all  come  about  so  suddenly. 

"  I  guess  you've  got  the  joke  on  me,  boys," 
he  ventured  with  a  nervous  little  laugh.  And 
then  his  voice  died  away  against  the  stony  im- 


AN   ADVENTURE   IN   THE   NIGHT 

mobility  of  the  man  opposite  as  laughter  sinks 
to  nothing  against  the  horror  of  a  great  dark 
ness.  Bennington  began  to  feel  impressed  in 
earnest.  Across  his  mind  crept  doubts  as  to 
the  outcome.  He  almost  screamed  aloud  as 
some  one  stole  up  behind  and  dropped  over 
his  throat  the  soft  cold  coil  of  a  lariat.  Then, 
at  a  signal  from  the  chief,  the  two  men  haled 
him  away. 

They  stopped  beneath  a  gnarled  oak  half 
way  down  the  slope  to  the  gulch  bottom,  from 
which  protruded,  like  a  long  witch  arm,  a 
single  withered  branch.  Over  this  the  unseen 
threw  the  end  of  the  lariat.  Bennington  faced 
the  expressionless  gaze  of  twenty  masks,  on 
which  the  torchlight  threw  strong  black 
shadows.  Directly  in  front  of  him  the  leader 
posted  himself,  watch  in  hand. 

"  Any  last  requests?  "  he  inquired  in  his 
measured  tones. 

Bennington  felt  the  need  of  thinking 
quickly,  but,  being  unused  to  emergencies,  he 
could  not. 

"  Anywhar  y'  want  yore  stuff  sent?  "  the 
other  pursued  relentlessly. 


IIO  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

Bennington  swallowed,  and  found  his  voice 
at  last. 

"  Now  be  reasonable,"  he  pleaded.  "  It 
isn't  going  to  do  you  any  good  to  hang  me. 
I  didn't  mean  to  make  any  distinctions.  I 
just  paid  the  oldest  debts,  that's  all.  You'll 
all  get  paid.  There'll  be  some  more  money 
after  a  while,  and  then  I  can  pay  some  more 
of  you.  If  you  kill  me,  you  won't  get  any 
at  all." 

"  Won't  get  any  any  way,"  some  one  mut 
tered  audibly  from  the  crowd. 

The  man  with  the  watch  never  stirred. 

"  Two  minutes  more,"  he  said  simply. 

One  of  the  men,  who  had  been  holding  the 
young  man's  arms,  had  fallen  back  into  the 
crowd  when  the  lariat  was  thrown  over  the 
oak  limb.  During  the  short  colloquy  just  de 
tailed,  the  attention  of  the  other  had  become 
somewhat  distracted.  Bennington  wrenched 
himself  free,  and  struck  this  man  full  in  the 
face. 

He  had  never  in  his  well-ordered  life  hit  in 
anger,  but  behind  this  blow  was  desperation, 
and  the  weight  of  a  young  and  active  body. 


AN   ADVENTURE   IN   THE   NIGHT  Iir 

The  man  went  down.  Bennington  seized  the 
lariat  with  both  hands  and  tried  to  wrench 
it  over  his  head. 

The  individual  who  had  done  all  the  talk 
ing  leaped  forward  toward  him,  and  dodging 
a  hastily  aimed  blow,  seized  him  about  the 
waist  and  threw  him  neatly  to  the  ground. 
Bennington  struggled  furiously  and  silently. 
The  other  had  great  difficulty  in  holding  him 
down. 

"  Come  here,  some  of  you  fellows,"  he 
cried,  panting  and  laughing  a  little.  "  Tie  his 
hands,  for  the  love  of  Heaven." 

In  another  moment  the  Easterner,  his 
arms  securely  pinioned,  stood  as  before.  He 
was  breathing  hard  and  the  short  struggle  had 
heated  his  blood  through  and  through. 
Bunker  Hill  had  waked  up.  He  set  his  teeth, 
resolving  that  they  should  not  get  another 
word  out  of  him. 

The  timekeeper  raised  one  hand  warningly. 
Over  his  shoulder  Bennington  dimly  saw  a  tall 
muscular  figure,  tense  with  the  expectation  of 
effort,  lean  forward  to  the  slack  of  the  lariat. 
He  stared  back  to  the  front. 


H2  THE  CLAIM  JUMPERS 

The  leader  raised  his  pistol  to  give  the 
signal.  Bennington  shut  his  eyes.  Then  en 
sued  a  pause  and  a  murmuring  of  low  voices. 
Bennington  looked,  and,  to  his  surprise,  per 
ceived  Lawton's  girl  in  earnest  expostulation 
with  the  leader  of  the  band.  As  he  listened 
their  voices  rose,  so  he  caught  snatches  of  their 
talk. 

"  Confound  it  all!  "  objected  the  man  in  ex 
asperated  tones,  "  you  don't  play  fair.  That 
wasn't  the  agreement  at  all." 

"  Agreement  or  no  agreement,  this  thing's 
gone  far  enough,"  she  rejoined  sharply.  "  I've 
watched  the  whole  performance,  and  I've  been 
expecting  for  the  last  ten  minutes  you'd  have 
sense  enough  to  quit." 

The  voices  died  to  a  murmuring.  Once 
the  girl  stamped  her  foot,  and  once  the  man 
spread  his  hands  out  in  deprecation.  The 
maskers  grouped  about  in  silent  enjoyment  of 
the  scene.  At  last  the  discussion  terminated. 

"  It's  all  up,  boys,"  cried  the  man  savagely, 
tearing  off  his  mask.  To  Bennington's  vast 
surprise,  the  features  of  Jim  Fay  were  discov 
ered.  He  approached  and  began  sullenly  to 


AN  ADVENTURE  IN   THE  NIGHT          113 

undo  the  young  man's  pinioned  arms.  The 
others  rolled  up  their  masks  and  put  them  in 
their  pockets.  They  laughed  to  each  other 
consumedly.  The  tall  man  approached,  rub 
bing  his  jaw. 

"  You  hits  hard,  sonny,"  said  he,  "  and  you 
don't  go  down  in  yore  boots  *  a  little  bit." 

The  group  began  to  break  up  and  move 
down  the  gulch,  most  of  the  men  shouting 
out  a  good-natured  word  or  so  of  farewell. 
Bennington,  recovering  from  his  daze  at  the 
rapid  passage  of  these  events,  stepped  forward 
to  where  Fay  and  the  girl  had  resumed  their 
discussion.  He  saw  that  the  young  miner  had 
recovered  his  habitual  tone  of  raillery,  and  that 
the  girl  was  now  looking  up  at  him  with  eyes 
full  of  deprecation. 

"  Miss  Lawton,"  said  Bennington  with 
formality,  "  I  hope  you  will  allow  me,  after 
your  great  kindness,  to  see  that  you  get  down 
the  gulch  safely." 

Fay  cut  in  before  the  girl  could  reply. 

"  Don't    bother    about    that,  de    Laney," 

*  Western— to  become  frightened. 


U4  THE   CLAIM  JUMPERS 

said  he,  in  a  most  cavalier  fashion.  "  I'll  see 
to  it." 

"  I  did  not  address  you,  sir!  "  returned  Ben- 
nington  coldly.  The  Westerner's  eyes  twinkled 
with  amusement.  The  girl  interrupted. 

"  Thank  you  very  much,  Mr.  de  Laney,  but 
Mr.  Fay  is  right — I  wouldn't  trouble  you." 
Her  eyes  commanded  Fay,  and  he  moved  a 
little  apart. 

"  Don't  be  angry,"  she  pleaded  hurriedly, 
in  an  undertone,  "  but  it's  better  that  way  to 
night.  And  I  think  you  acted  grandly." 

"  You  are  the  one  who  acted  grandly,"  he 
replied,  a  little  mollified.  "  How  can  I  ever 
thank  you?  You  came  just  in  time." 

She  laughed. 

"  You're  not  angry,  are  you?  "  she  coaxed 

"  No,  of  course  not;  what  right  have  I  U 
be?" 

"  I  don't  like  that — quite — but  I  suppose 
it  will  do.  You'll  be  there  to-morrow?  " 

"  You  know  I  will." 

"  Then  good-night."  She  gave  his  folded 
arm  a  hasty  pat  and  ran  on  down  the  hill  after 
Fay,  who  Hd  gone  on.  Bennington  saw  hei 


AN  ADVENTURE   IN  THE   NIGHT          n^ 

seize  his  shoulders,  as  she  overtook  him,  and 
give  them  a  severe  shake. 

The  light  of  the  torches  down  the  gulch 
wavered  and  disappeared.  Bennington  re 
turned  to  his  room.  On  the  table  lay  his 
manuscript,  and  the  ink  was  hardly  dried  on 
the  last  word  of  it.  Outside  a  poor-will  began 
to  utter  its  weird  call.  The  candle  before  him 
sputtered,  and  burned  again  with  a  clear  flame. 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE    HEAVENS    OPENED 

BENNINGTON  awoke  early  the  next  morn 
ing,  a  pleased  glow  of  anticipation  warming 
his  heart,  and  almost  before  his  eyes  were 
opened  he  had  raised  himself  to  leap  out  of 
the  bunk.  Then  with  a  disappointed  sigh  he 
sank  back.  On  the  roof  fell  the  heavy  patter 
of  raindrops. 

After  a  time  he  arose  and  pulled  aside  the 
curtains  of  a  window.  The  nearer  world  was 
dripping;  the  farther  world  was  hidden  or  ob 
scured  by  long  veils  of  rain,  driven  in  ragged 
clouds  before  a  west  wind.  Yesterday  the 
leaves  had  waved  lightly,  the  undergrowth  of 
shrubs  had  uplifted  in  feathery  airiness  of  tex 
ture,  the  ground  beneath  had  been  crisp  and 
aromatic  with  pine  needles.  Now  everything 
bore  a  drooping,  sodden  aspect  which  spoke 
rather  of  decay  than  of  the  life  of  spring. 

Even   the   chickens   had   wisely  remained  in- 
116 


THE   HEAVENS  OPENED 

doors,  with  the  exception  of  a  single  bedrag 
gled  old  rooster,  whose  melancholy  appearance 
added  another  shade  of  gloom  to  the  dismal 
outlook.  The  wind  twisted  his  long  tail 
feathers  from  side  to  side  so  energetically  that, 
even  as  Bennington  looked,  the  poor  fowl,  per 
force,  had  to  scud,  careened  from  one  side  to 
the  other,  like  a  heavily-laden  craft,  into  the 
shelter  of  his  coop.  The  wind,  left  to  its  own 
devices,  skittered  across  cold-looking  little 
pools  of  water,  and  tried  in  vain  to  induce  the 
soaked  leaves  of  the  autumn  before  to  essay 
an  aerial  flight. 

The  rain  hit  the  roof  now  in  heavy  gusts 
as  though  some  one  had  dashed  it  from  a  pail. 
The  wind  whistled  through  a  loosened  shingle 
and  rattled  around  an  ill-made  joint.  Within 
the  house  itself  some  slight  sounds  of  prepa 
ration  for  breakfast  sounded  the  clearer  against 
the  turmoil  outside.  And  then  Bennington 
became  conscious  that  for  some  time  he  had 
felt  another  sound  underneath  all  the  rest.  It 
was  grand  and  organlike  in  tone,  resembling 
the  roar  of  surf  on  a  sand  beach  as  much  as 
anything  else.  He  looked  out  again,  and  saw 


Il8  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

that  it  was  the  wind  in  the  trees.  The  same 
conditions  that  had  before  touched  the  harp 
murmur  of  a  stiller  day  now  struck  out  a  rush 
and  roar  almost  awe-inspiring  in  its  volume. 
Bennington  impulsively  threw  open  the  win 
dow  and  leaned  out. 

The  great  hill  back  of  the  camp  was  so 
steep  that  the  pines  growing  on  its  slope 
offered  to  the  breeze  an  almost  perpendicular 
screen  of  branches.  Instead  of  one,  or  at  most 
a  dozen  trees,  the  wind  here  passed  through  a 
thousand  at  once.  As  a  consequence,  the  stir 
of  air  that  in  a  level  woodland  would  arouse 
but  a  faint  whisper,  here  would  pass  with  a 
rustling  murmur;  a  murmur  would  be  magni 
fied  into  a  noise  as  of  the  mellow  falling  of 
waters;  and  now  that  the  storm  had  awakened, 
the  hill  caught  up  its  cry  with  a  howl  so  awful 
and  sustained  that,  as  the  open  window  let  in 
the  full  volume  of  its  blast,  Bennington  in 
voluntarily  drew  back.  He  closed  the  sash 
and  turned  to  dress. 

After  the  first  disappointment,  strange  to 
say,  Bennington  became  quite  resigned.  He 
had  felt,  a  little  illogically,  that  this  giving  of 


THE   HEAVENS  OPENED 

a  whole  day  to  the  picnic  was  not  quite  the 
thing.  His  Puritan  conscience  impressed  him 
with  the  sacredness  of  work.  He  settled  down 
to  the  fact  of  the  rainstorm  with  a  pleasant 
recognition  of  its  inevitability,  and  a  resolve  to 
improve  his  time. 

To  that  end,  after  breakfast,  he  drew  on  a 
pair  of  fleece-lined  slippers,  donned  a  sweater, 
occupied  two  chairs  in  the  well-known  fashion, 
and  attacked  with  energy  the  pages  of  Le 
Conte's  Geology.  This  book,  as  you  very  well 
know,  discourses  at  first  with  great  interest 
concerning  erosions.  Among  other  things  it 
convinces  you  that  a  current  of  water,  being 
doubled  in  swiftness,  can  transport  a  mass 
sixty-four  times  as  heavy  as  when  it  ran  half 
as  fast.  This  astounding  proposition  is  ab 
strusely  proved.  As  Bennington  had  resolved 
not  to  make  his  reading  mere  recreation,  he 
drew  diagrams  conscientiously  until  he  under 
stood  it.  Then  he  passed  on  to  an  earnest 
consideration  of  why  the  revolution  of  the 
globe  and  the  resistance  of  continents  cause 
oceanic  currents  of  a  particular  direction  and 
velocity.  Besides  this,  there  was  much  easier 


120  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

reading  concerning  alluvial  deposits.  So  in 
terested  did  he  grow  that  Old  Mizzou,  coming 
'  in,  muddy-hoofed  and  glistening  from  a  round 
of  the  stock,  found  him  quite  unapproachable 
on  the  subject  of  cribbage.  The  patriarch  then 
stumped  over  to  Arthur's  cabin. 

After  dinner,  Bennington  picked  up  the 
book  again,  but  found  that  his  brain  had 
reached  the  limit  of  spontaneous  mental  effort. 
He  looked  for  Old  Mizzou  and  the  cribbage 
game.  The  miner  had  gone  to  visit  Arthur 
again.  Bennington  wandered  about  disconso 
lately. 

For  a  time  he  drummed  idly  on  the  window 
pane.  Then  he  took  out  his  revolver  and  tried 
to  practise  through  the  open  doorway.  The 
smoke  from  the  discharges  hung  heavy  in  the 
damp  air,  filling  the  room  in  a  most  disagree 
able  fashion.  Bennington's  trips  to  see  the 
effect  of  his  shots  proved  to  him  the  fiendish 
propensity  of  everything  he  touched,  were  it 
never  so  lightly,  to  sprinkle  him  with  cold 
water.  Above  all,  his  skill  with  the  weapon 
was  not  great  enough  as  yet  to  make  it 
much  fun.  He  abandoned  pistol  shooting  and 


THE   HEAVENS  OPENED  121 

yawned  extensively,  wishing  it  were  time  to 
go  to  bed. 

In  the  evening  he  played  cribbage  with  Old 
Mizzou.  After  a  time  Arthur  and  his  wife 
came  in  and  they  had  a  dreary  game  of 
"  cinch,"  the  man  speaking  but  little,  the 
woman  not  at  all.  Old  Mizzou  smoked  inces 
santly  on  a  corncob  pipe  charged  with  a  pecul 
iarly  pungent  variety  of  tobacco,  which  filled 
the  air  with  a  blue  vapour,  and  penetrated  un 
pleasantly  into  Bennington's  mucous  mem 
branes. 

The  next  morning  it  was  still  raining. 

Bennington  became  very  impatient  indeed, 
but  he  tackled  Le  Conte  industriously,  and  did 
well  enough  until  he  tried  to  get  it  into  his 
head  why  various  things  happen  to  glaciers. 
Then  viscosity,  the  lines  of  swiftest  motion, 
relegation,  and  directions  of  pressure  came 
forth  from  the  printed  pages  and  mocked  him. 
He  arose  in  his  might  and  went  forth  into  the 
open  air. 

Before  going  out  he  had  put  on  his  canvas 
shooting  coat  and  a  pair  of  hobnailed  leather 
hunting  boots,  laced  for  a  little  distance  at  the 


122  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

front  and  sides.  He  visited  the  horses,  stand 
ing  disconsolate  under  an  open  shed  in  the 
corral;  he  slopped,  with  constantly  accruing 
masses  of  sticky  earth  at  his  feet,  to  the  chicken 
coop,  into  which  he  cast  an  eye;  he  even  took 
the  kitchen  pails  and  tramped  down  to  the 
spring  and  back.  In  the  gulch  he  did  not  see 
or  hear  a  living  thing.  A  newly-born  and 
dirty  little  stream  was  trickling  destructively 
through  all  manner  of  shivering  grasses  and 
flowers.  The  water  from  Bennington's  sleeves 
ran  down  over  the  harsh  canvas  cuffs  and 
turned  his  hands  purple  with  the  cold.  He 
returned  to  the  cabin  and  changed  his  clothes. 
The  short  walk  had  refreshed  him,  but  it 
had  spurred  his  impatience.  Outside,  the 
world  seemed  to  have  changed.  His  experi 
ence  with  the  Hills,  up  to  now,  had  always 
been  in  one  phase  of  their  beauty — that  of 
clear,  bright  sunshine  and  soft  skies.  Now 
it  was  as  a  different  country.  He  could  not 
get  rid  of  the  feeling,  foolish  as  it  was,  that  it 
was  in  reality  different;  and  that  the  whole  epi 
sode  of  the  girl  and  the  rock  was  as  a  vision 
which  had  passed.  It  grew  indistinct  in  the 


THE    HEAVENS   OPENED  123 

presence  of  this  iron  reality  of  cold  and  wet. 
He  could  not  assure  himself  he  had  not  imag 
ined  it  all.  Thus,  belated,  he  came  to  think 
ing  of  her  again,  and  having  now  nothing  else 
to  do,  he  fell  into  daydreams  that  had  no 
other  effect  than  to  reveal  to  him  the  impa 
tience  which  had  been,  from  the  first,  the  real 
cause  of  his  restlessness  under  the  temporary 
confinement.  Now  the  impatience  grew  in 
intensity.  He  resolved  that  if  the  morrow  did 
not  end  the  storm,  he  would  tramp  down  the 
gulch  to  make  a  call.  All  this  time  Aliris  lay 
quite  untouched. 

The  next  day  dawned  darker  than  ever. 
After  breakfast  Old  Mizzou,  as  usual,  went  out 
to  feed  the  horses,  and  Bennington,  through 
sheer  idleness,  accompanied  him.  They  dis 
tributed  the  oats  and  hay,  and  then  stood, 
sheltered  from  the  direct  rain,  conversing 
idly. 

Suddenly  the  wind  died  and  the  rain  ceased. 
In  the  place  of  the  gloom  succeeded  a  strange 
sulphur-yellow  glare  which  lay  on  the  spirit 
with  almost  physical  oppression.  Old  Mizzou 

shouted  something,  and  scrambled  excitedly  to 
9 


124  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

the  house.  Bennington  looked  about  him  be 
wildered. 

Over  back  of  the  hill,  dimly  discernible 
through  the  trees,  loomed  the  black  irregular 
shape  of  a  cloud,  in  dismal  contrast  to  the  yellow 
glare  which  now  filled  all  the  sky.  The  horses, 
frightened,  crowded  up  close  to  Bennington, 
trying  to  push  their  noses  over  his  shoulder.  A 
number  of  jays  and  finches  rushed  down 
through  the  woods  and  darted  rapidly,  each 
with  its  peculiar  flight,  toward  a  clump  of  trees 
and  bushes  standing  on  a  ridge  across  the  valley. 

From  the  cabin  Old  Mizzou  was  shouting 
to  him.  He  turned  to  follow  the  old  man. 
Back  of  him  something  vast  and  awful  roared 
out,  and  then  all  at  once  he  felt  himself  strug 
gling  with  a  rush  of  waters.  He  was  jammed 
violently  against  the  posts  of  the  corral.  There 
he  worked  to  his  feet. 

The  whole  side  of  the  hill  was  one  vast 
spread  of  shallow  tossing  water,  as  though  a 
lake  had  been  let  fall  on  the  summit  of  the 
ridge.  The  smaller  bushes  were  uprooted  and 
swept  along,  but  the  trees  and  saplings  held 
their  own. 


THE    HEAVENS   OPENED 


12$ 


In  a  moment  the  stones  and  ridgelets  began 
to  show.  It  was  over.  Not  a  drop  of  rain 
had  fallen. 

Bennington  climbed  the  corral  fence  and 
walked  slowly  to  the  house.  The  blacksmith 
shop  was  filled  to  the  window,  and  Arthur's 
cabin  was  not  much  better.  He  entered  the 
kitchen.  The  floor  there  was  some  two  inches 
submerged,  but  the  water  was  slowly  escaping 
through  the  down-hill  door  by  which  Ben 
nington  had  come  in.  Across  the  dining-room 
door  Mrs.  Arthur  had  laid  a  folded  rug.  In 
front  of  the  barrier  stood  the  lady  herself, 
vigorously  sweeping  back  the  threatening  water 
from  her  only  glorious  apartment. 

Bennington  took  the  broom  from  her  and 
swept  until  the  cessation  of  the  flood  made  it 
no  longer  necessary.  Mrs.  Arthur  commenced 
to  mop  the  floor.  The  young  man  stepped 
outside.  There  he  was  joined  a  moment  later 
by  the  other  two. 

They  offered  no  explanation  of  their  where 
abouts  during  the  trouble,  but  Bennington  sur 
mised  shrewdly  that  they  had  hunted  a  dry 
place. 


126  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

"  Glory!  "  cried  Old  Mizzou.  "  Lucky  she 
misses  us!  " 

"  What  was  it?  Where'd  it  come  from?  " 
inquired  Bennington,  shaking  the  surface 
drops  from  his  shoulders.  He  was  wet 
through. 

"  Cloud-burst,"  replied  the  miner.  "  She 
hit  up  th'  ridge  a  ways.  If  she'd  ever  burst 
yere,  sonny,  ye'd  never  know  what  drownded 
ye.  Look  at  that  gulch!  " 

The  water  had  now  drained  from  the  hill 
entirely.  It  could  be  seen  that  most  of  the  sur 
face  earth  had  been  washed  away,  leaving  the 
skeleton  of  the  mountain  bare.  Some  of  the 
more  slightly  rooted  trees  had  fallen,  or  clung 
precariously  to  the  earth  with  bony  fingers. 
But  the  gulch  itself  was  terrible.  The  moun 
tain  laurel,  the  elders,  the  sarvis  bushes,  the 
wild  roses  which,  a  few  days  before,  had  been 
fragrant  and  beautiful  with  blossom  and  leaf 
and  musical  with  birds,  had  disappeared.  In 
their  stead  rolled  an  angry  brown  flood  whirl 
ing  in  almost  unbroken  surface  from  bank  to 
bank.  Several  oaks,  submerged  to  their 
branches,  raised  their  arms  helplessly.  As 


THE   HEAVENS   OPENED 

Bennington  looked,  one  of  these  bent  slowly 
and  sank  from  sight.  A  moment  later  it  shot 
with  great  suddenness  half  its  length  into  the 
air,  was  seized  by  the  eager  waters,  and 
whisked  away  as  lightly  as  though  it  had  been 
a  tree  of  straw.  Dark  objects  began  to  come 
down  with  the  stream.  They  seemed  to  be 
trying  to  preserve  a  semblance  of  dignity  in 
their  stately  bobbing  up  and  down,  but  ap 
parently  found  the  attempt  difficult.  The  roar 
was  almost  deafening,  but  even  above  it  a 
strangely  deliberate  grinding  noise  was  audi 
ble.  Old  Mizzou  said  it  was  the  grating  of 
boulders  as  they  were  rolled  along  the  bed  of  the 
stream.  The  yellow  glow  had  disappeared 
from  the  air,  and  the  gloom  of  rain  had  taken 
its  place. 

A  fine  mist  began  to  fall.  Bennington  for 
the  first  time  realized  he  was  wet  and  shiver 
ing,  and  so  he  turned  inside  to  change  his 
clothes. 

"  It'll  all  be  over  in  a  few  hours,"  remarked 
Arthur.  "  I  reckon  them  Spanish  Gulch  peo- 
ple'll  wish  they  lived  up-stream." 

Bennington  paused  at  the  doorway. 


128  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

"  That's  so,"  he  commented.  "  How  about 
Spanish  Gulch?  Will  it  all  be  drowned  out?  " 

"  No,  I  reckon  not/'  replied  Arthur. 
"  They'll  get  wet  down  a  lot,  and  have  wet 
blankets  to  sleep  in  to-night,  that's  all.  You 
see  the  gulch  spraddles  out  down  there,  an' 
then  too  all  this  timber'll  jam  down  this  gulch 
a-ways.  That'll  back  up  th'  water  some,  and 
so  she  won't  come  all  of  a  rush." 

"  I  see,"  said  Bennington. 

The  afternoon  was  well  enough  occupied  in 
repairing  to  some  extent  the  ravages  of  the 
brief  storm.  A  length  of  the  corral  had  suc 
cumbed  to  the  flood,  many  valuable  tools  in 
the  blacksmith  shop  were  in  danger  of  rust 
from  the  dampness,  and  Arthur  and  his  wife 
had  been  completely  washed  out.  All  three 
men  worked  hard  setting  things  to  rights.  The 
twilight  caught  them  before  their  work  was 
done. 

Bennington  found  himself  too  weary  to  at 
tempt  an  unknown,  debris-covered  road  by 
dark.  He  played  cribbage  with  Old  Mizzou 
and  won. 

About  half  past  nine  he  pushed  back  his 


THE   HEAVENS  OPENED 

chair  and  went  outside.  The  stars  had  come 
out  by  the  thousand,  and  a  solitary  cricket, 
which  had  in  some  way  escaped  the  deluge,  was 
chirping  in  the  middle  distance.  With  a  sud 
den  uplift  of  the  heart  he  realized  that  he  would 
see  "  her  "  on  the  morrow.  He  learned  that  no 
matter  how  philosophically  we  may  have  borne 
a  separation,  the  prospect  of  its  near  end  shows 
us  how  strong  the  repression  has  been;  the  lift 
ing  of  the  bonds  makes  evident  how  much  they 
have  galled. 


CHAPTER  X 

THE   WORLD    MADE    YOUNG 

THE  morning  fulfilled  the  promise  of  the 
night  before.  Bennington  de  Laney  awoke  to 
a  sun-bright  world,  fresh  with  the  early  breezes. 
A  multitude  of  birds  outside  the  window  bub 
bled  and  warbled  and  carolled  away  with  all 
their  little  mights,  either  in  joy  at  the  return 
of  peace,  or  in  sorrow  at  the  loss  of  their  new- 
built  houses.  Sorrow  and  joy  sound  much 
alike  as  nature  tells  them.  The  farther  ridges 
and  the  prairies  were  once  more  in  view,  but 
now,  oh,  wonder!  the  great  plain  had  cast  aside 
its  robes  of  monk  brown,  and  had  stepped  forth 
in  jolly  green-o'Lincoln.  The  air  was  full  of 
tingling  life.  Altogether  a  morning  to  cry  one 
to  leap  eagerly  from  bed,  to  rush  to  the  win 
dow,  to  drink  in  deep  draughts  of  electric 
balmy  ozone,  and  to  thank  heaven  for  the  grace 
of  mere  existence. 

That  at  least  is  what  Bennington  did.    And 
130 


THE  WORLD  MADE  YOUNG       131 

he  did  more.  He  despatched  a  hasty  break 
fast,  and  went  forth  and  saddled  his  steed,  and 
rode  away  down  the  gulch,  with  never  a 
thought  of  sample  tests,  and  never  a  care 
whether  the  day's  work  were  done  or  not.  For 
this  was  springtime,  and  the  air  was  snapping 
with  it.  Near  the  chickens'  shelter  the  bur 
nished  old  gobbler  spread  his  tail  and  dragged 
his  wings  and  puffed  his  feathers  and  swelled 
himself  red  in  the  face,  to  the  great  admiration 
of  a  demure  gray-brown  little  turkey  hen. 
Overhead  wheeled  two  small  hawks  screaming. 
They  clashed,  and  light  feathers  came  floating 
down  from  the  encounter;  yet  presently  they 
flew  away  together  to  a  hole  in  a  dead  tree. 
Three  song  sparrows  dashed  almost  to  his  very 
feet,  so  busily  fighting  that  they  hardly  escaped 
the  pony's  hoofs.  Everywhere  love  songs 
trilled  from  the  underbrush;  and  Bennington 
de  Laney,  as  young,  as  full  of  life,  as  unmated 
as  they,  rode  slowly  along  thinking  of  his  lady 
love,  and 

"Hullo!  Where  are  you  going?"  cried 
she. 

He  looked  up  with  eager  joy,  to  find  that 


THE  CLAIM   JUMPERS 

they  had  met  in  the  middle  of  what  used  to  be 
the  road.  The  gulch  had  been  swept  bare  by 
the  flood,  not  only  of  every  representative  of 
the  vegetable  world,  but  also  of  the  very  earth 
in  which  it  had  grown.  From  the  remains  of 
the  roadbed  projected  sharp  flints  and 
rocks,  among  which  the  broncos  picked  their 
way. 

"  Good-morning,  Mary,"  he  cried.  "  1  was 
just  coming  to  see  you.  Wasn't  it  a  great 
rain?  " 

"  And  isn't  the  gulch  awful?  Down  near 
our  way  the  timber  began  to  jam,  and  it  is  all 
choked  up;  but  up  here  it  is  desolate." 

He  turned  his  horse  about,  and  they  paced 
slowly  along  together,  telling  each  other  their 
respective  experiences  in  the  storm.  It  seemed 
that  the  Lawtons  had  known  nothing  of  the 
cloud-burst  itself,  except  from  its  effects  in  fill 
ing  up  the  ravine.  Rumours  of  the  drowning 
of  a  miner  were  about. 

It  soon  became  evident  that  the  brightness 
of  the  morning  was  reflected  from  the  girl's 
mood.  She  fairly  sparkled  with  gaiety  and 
high  spirits.  The  two  got  along  famously. 


THE   WORLD    MADE    YOUNG  133 

"  Where  are  you  going?  "  asked  Benning- 
ton  at  last. 

"  On  the  picnic,  of  course,"  she  rejoined 
promptly.  "  Weren't  you  invited?  I  thought 
you  were." 

"  I  thought  it  would  be  too  wet,"  he 
averred  in  explanation. 

"  Not  a  bit!  The  rain  dries  quickly  in  the 
hills,  and  the  cloud-burst  only  came  into  this 
gulch.  I  have  here,"  she  went  on,  twisting 
around  in  her  saddle  to  inspect  a  large  bundle 
and  a  pair  of  well-stuffed  saddle  bags,  "  I  have 
here  a  coffee  pot,  a  frying  pan,  a  little  kettle, 
two  tin  cups,  and  various  sorts  of  grub.  I  am 
fixed  for  a  scout  sure.  Now  when  we  get  near 
your  camp  you  must  run  up  and  get  an  axe 
and  some  matches." 

Bennington  observed  with  approval  the 
corpulency  of  the  bundle  and  the  skilful  man 
ner  with  which  it  was  tied  on.  He  noted,  with 
perhaps  more  approval,  her  lithe  figure  in  its 
old-fashioned  painter's  blouse  and  rough  skirt, 
and  the  rosiness  of  her  cheeks  under  a  cloth 
cap  caught  on  awry.  As  the  ponies  sought  a 
path  at  a  snail's  pace  through  the  sharp  flints, 


134  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

she  showed  in  a  thousand  ways  how  high  the 
gaiety  of  her  animal  spirits  had  mounted.  She 
sang  airy  little  pieces  of  songs.  She  uttered 
single  clear  notes.  She  mocked,  with  a  lu 
dicrously  feminine  croak,  the  hoarse  voice  of  a 
crow  sailing  over  them.  She  rallied  Benning- 
ton  mercilessly  on  his  corduroys,  his  yellow 
flapped  pistol  holster,  his  laced  boots.  She 
went  over  in  ridiculous  pantomime  the  scene  of 
the  mock  lynching,  until  Bennington  rolled  in 
his  saddle  with  light-hearted  laughter,  and 
wondered  how  it  was  possible  he  had  ever 
taken  the  affair  seriously.  When  he  returned 
with  the  axe  she  was  hugely  alarmed  lest  he 
harm  himself  by  his  awkward  way  of  carrying 
it,  and  gave  him  much  wholesome  advice  in 
her  most  maternal  manner.  After  all  of  which 
she  would  catch  his  eye,  and  they  would  both 
laugh  to  startle  the  birds. 

Blue  Lead  proved  to  be  some  distance 
away,  for  which  fact  Bennington  was  not  sorry. 
At  length  they  surmounted  a  little  ridge. 
Over  its  summit  there  started  into  being  a  long 
cool  "  draw,"  broad  and  shallow  near  the  top, 
but  deepening  by  insensible  degrees  into  a 


THE   WORLD   MADE   YOUNG  ^ 

canon  filled  already  with  broad-leaved  shrubs, 
and  thickly  grown  with  saplings  of  beech  and 
ash.  Through  the  screen  of  slender  trunks 
could  be  seen  miniature  open  parks  carpeted 
with  a  soft  tiny  fern,  not  high  enough  to  con 
ceal  the  ears  of  a  rabbit,  or  to  quench  the  flame 
of  the  tiger  lily  that  grew  there.  Soon  a  little 
brook  sprang  from  nowhere,  and  crept  timidly 
through  and  under  thick  mosses.  After  a  time 
it  increased  in  size,  and  when  it  had  become 
large  enough  to  bubble  over  clear  gravel,  Mary 
called  a  halt. 

"  We'll  have  our  picnic  here,"  she  decided. 

The  ravine  at  this  point  received  another 
little  gulch  into  itself,  and  where  the  two  came 
together  the  bottom  widened  out  into  almost 
parklike  proportions.  On  one  side  was  a  grass- 
plot  encroached  upon  by  numerous  raspberry 
vines.  On  the  other  was  the  brook,  flowing 
noisily  in  the  shade  of  saplings  and  of  ferns. 

Bennington  unsaddled  the  horses  and  led 
them  over  to  the  grass-plot,  where  he  picketed 
them  securely  in  such  a  manner  that  they  could 
not  become  entangled.  When  he  returned  to 
the  brookside  he  found  that  Mary  had  un- 


136  THE   CLAIM  JUMPERS 

done  her  bundle  and  spread  out  its  contents. 
There  were  various  utensils,  some  corn  meal, 
coffee,  two  slices  of  ham,  raw  potatoes,  a  small 
bottle  of  milk,  some  eggs  wonderfully  pre 
served  by  moss  inside  the  pail,  and  some  bread 
and  cake.  Bennington  eyed  all  this  in  dismay. 
She  caught  his  look  and  laughed. 

"  Can't  you  cook?  Well,  I  can;  you  just 
obey  orders." 

"  We  won't  get  anything  to  eat  before 
night,"  objected  Bennington  dolefully  as  he 
looked  over  the  decidedly  raw  material. 

"And  he's  so  hungry!"  she  teased. 
"  Never  mind,  you  build  a  fire." 

Bennington  brightened.  He  had  one  out 
door  knack — that  of  lighting  matches  in  a  wind 
and  inducing  refractory  wood  to  burn.  His 
skill  had  often  been  called  into  requisition  in 
the  igniting  of  beach  fires,  and  the  so-called 
"  camp  fires  "  of  girls.  He  collected  dry  twigs 
from  the  sunny  places,  cut  slivers  with  his 
knife,  built  over  the  whole  a  wigwam-shaped 
pyramid  of  heavier  twigs,  against  which  he 
leaned  his  firewood.  Then  he  touched  off 
the  combination.  The  slivers  ignited  the 


THE   WORLD    MADE   YOUNG  137 

twigs,  the  twigs  set  fire  to  the  wigwam,  the 
wigwam  started  the  firewood.  Bennington's 
honour  was  vindicated.  He  felt  proud. 

Mary,  who  had  been  filling  the  coffee 
pot  at  the  creek,  approached  and  viewed  the 
triumph.  She  cast  upon  it  the  glance  of 
scorn. 

"  That's  no  cooking  fire/'  said  she. 

So  Bennington,  under  her  directions, 
placed  together  the  two  parallel  logs  with  the 
hewn  sides  and  built  the  small  bright  fire  be 
tween  them. 

"  Now  you  see,"  she  explained,  "  I  can  put 
my  frying  pan,  and  coffee  pot,  and  kettle  across 
the  two  logs.  I  can  get  at  them  easy,  and 
don't  burn  my  fingers.  Now  you  may  peel  the 
potatoes." 

The  Easterner  peeled  potatoes  under  con 
stant  laughing  amendment  as  to  method. 
Then  the  small  cook  collected  her  materials 
about  her,  in  grand  preparation  for  the  final 
rites.  She  turned  back  the  loose  sleeves  of 
her  blouse  to  the  elbow. 

This  drew  an  exclamation  from  Ben 
nington. 


138  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

"Why,  Mary,  how  white  your  arms  are!" 
he  cried,  astonished. 

She  surveyed  her  forearm  with  a  little  blush, 
turning  it  back  and  forth. 

"  I  am  pretty  tanned,"  she  agreed. 

The  coffee  pot  was  filled  and  placed  across 
the  logs  at  one  end,  and  left  to  its  own  devices 
a  little  removed  from  the  hottest  of  the  fire. 
The  kettle  stood  next,  half  filled  with  salted 
water,  in  which  nestled  the  potatoes  like  so 
many  nested  eggs.  Mary  mixed  a  mysterious 
concoction  of  corn  meal,  eggs,  butter,  and 
some  white  powder,  mushing  the  whole  up  with 
milk  and  water.  The  mixture  she  spread 
evenly  in  the  bottom  of  the  frying  pan,  which 
she  set  in  a  warm  place. 

"  It  isn't  much  of  a  baking  tin,"  she  com 
mented,  eyeing  it  critically,  "  but  it'll  do." 

Under  her  direction  Bennington  impaled 
the  two  slices  of  ham  on  long  green  switches, 
and  stuck  these  upright  in  the  ground  in  such 
a  position  that  the  warmth  from  the  flames 
could  just  reach  them. 

"  They'll  never  cook  there,"  he  objected. 

"  Didn't  expect  they  would,"  she  retorted 


THE   WORLD    MADE   YOUNG  139 

briefly.  Then  relenting,  "  They  finish  better 
if  they're  warmed  through  first,"  she  ex 
plained. 

By  this  time  the  potatoes  were  bubbling 
energetically  and  the  coffee  was  sending  out 
a  fragrant  steam.  Mary  stabbed  experiment 
ally  at  the  vegetables  with  a  sharpened  sliver. 
Apparently  satisfied,  she  drew  back  with  a 
happy  sigh.  She  shook  her  hair  from  her  eyes 
and  smiled  across  at  Bennington. 

"Ready!    Go!  "  cried  she. 

The  frying  pan  was  covered  with  a  tin  plate 
on  which  were  heaped  live  coals.  More  coals 
were  poked  from  between  the  logs  on  to  a  flat 
place,  were  spread  out  thin,  and  were  crowned 
by  the  frying  pan  and  its  glowing  freight. 
Bennington  held  over  the  fire  a  switch  of  ham 
in  each  hand,  taking  care,  according  to  direc 
tions,  not  to  approach  the  actual  blaze.  Mary 
borrowed  his  hunting  knife  and  disappeared 
into  the  thicket.  In  a  moment  she  returned 
with  a  kettle-lifter,  improvised  very  simply  from 
a  forked  branch  of  a  sapling.  One  of  the  forks 
was  left  long  for  the  hand,  the  other  was  cut 

short.    The  result  was  like  an  Esquimaux  fish- 
so 


THE  CLAIM  JUMPERS 

hook.  She  then  relieved  Bennington  of  his 
task,  while  that  young  man  lifted  the  kettle 
from  the  fire  and  carefully  drained  away  the 
water. 

"  Dinner!  "  she  called  gaily. 

Bennington  looked  up  surprised.  He  had 
been  so  absorbed  in  the  spells  wrought  by  this 
dainty  woods  fairy  that  he  had  forgotten  the 
flight  of  time.  It  was  enough  for  him  to  watch 
the  turn  of  her  wrist,  the  swift  certainty  of  her 
movements,  to  catch  the  glow  lit  in  her  face 
by  the  fire  over  which  she  bent.  Then  he  sud 
denly  remembered  that  her  movements  had  all 
along  tended  toward  dinner,  and  were  not 
got  up  simply  and  merely  that  he  might  dis 
cover  new  charms  in  the  small  housekeeper. 

He  found  himself  seated  on  a  rock  with  a 
tin  plate  in  his  lap,  a  tin  cup  at  his  side,  and  an 
eager  little  lady  in  front  of  him,  anxious  that 
he  should  taste  all  her  dishes  and  deliver  an 
opinion  forthwith. 

The  coffee  he  pronounced  nectar;  the  ham 
and  mealy  potatoes,  delicious;  the  "  johnny- 
cake  "  of  a  yellow  golden  crispness  which  the 
originator  of  johnny-cake  might  envy;  and  the 


THE   WORLD    MADE   YOUNG  i4I 

bread  and  cake  and  butter  and  sugar  only  the 
less  meritorious  that  they  had  not  been  pre 
pared  by  her  own  hands  and  on  the  spot. 

"  And  see!  "  she  cried,  clapping  her  hands, 
"  the  sun  is  still  directly  over  us.  It  is  not 
night  yet,  silly  boy!  " 


CHAPTER  XI 

AND    HE    DID    EAT 

AFTER  the  meal  he  wanted  to  lie  down  in 
the  grasses  and  watch  the  clouds  sail  by,  but 
she  would  have  none  of  it.  She  haled  him 
away  to  the  brookside.  There  she  showed  him 
how  to  wash  dishes  by  filling  them  half  full  of 
water  in  which  fine  gravel  has  been  mixed,  and 
then  whirling  the  whole  rapidly  until  the  tin 
is  rubbed  quite  clean.  Never  was  prosaic  task 
more  delightful.  They  knelt  side  by  side  on 
the  bank,  under  the  dense  leaves,  and  dabbled 
in  the  water  happily.  The  ferns  were  fresh 
and  cool.  Once  a  redbird  shot  confidently 
down  from  above  on  half-closed  wing,  caught 
sight  of  these  intruders,  brought  up  with  a 
swish  of  feathers,  and  eyed  them  gravely  for 
some  time  from  a  neighbouring  treelet.  Ap 
parently  he  was  satisfied  with  his  inspection, 
ior  after  a  few  minutes  he  paid  no  further  at 
tention  to  them,  but  went  about  his  business 

142 


AND   HE   DID   EAT  j^j 

quietly.  When  the  dishes  had  been  washed, 
Mary  stood  over  Bennington  while  he  packed 
them  in  the  bundle  and  strapped  them  on  the 
saddle. 

"  Now,"  said  she  at  last,  "  we  have  nothing 
more  to  think  of  until  we  go  home." 

She  was  like  a  child,  playing  with  exhaust- 
less  spirits  at  the  most  trivial  games.  Not  for 
a  moment  would  she  listen  to  anything  of  a 
serious  nature.  Bennington,  with  the  heavier 
pertinacity  of  men  when  they  have  struck  a  con 
genial  vein,  tried  to  repeat  to  some  extent  the 
experience  of  the  last  afternoon  at  the  rock. 
Mary  laughed  his  sentiment  to  ridicule  and 
his  poetics  to  scorn.  Everything  he  said  she 
twisted  into  something  funny  or  ridiculous. 
He  wanted  to  sit  down  and  enjoy  the  calm 
peace  of  the  little  ravine  in  which  they  had 
pitched  their  temporary  camp,  but  she  made 
a  quiet  life  miserable  to  him.  At  last  in  sheer 
desperation  he  arose  to  pursue,  whereupon  she 
vanished  lightly  into  the  underbrush.  A  mo 
ment  later  he  heard  her  clear  laugh  mocking 
him  from  some  elder  thickets  a  hundred  yards 
away.  Bennington  pursued  with  ardour.  It 


144  THE  CLAIM  JUMPERS 

was  as  though  a  slow-turning  ocean  liner  were 
to  try  to  run  down  a  lively  little  yacht. 

Bennington  had  always  considered  girls  as 
weak  creatures,  incapable  of  swift  motion,  and 
needing  assistance  whenever  the  country  de 
parted  from  the  artificial  level  of  macadam. 
He  had  also  thought  himself  fairly  active.  He 
revised  these  ideas.  This  girl  could  travel 
through  the  thin  brush  of  the  creek  bottom 
two  feet  to  his  one,  because  she  ran  more 
lightly  and  surely,  and  her  endurance  was  not 
a  matter  for  discussion.  The  question  of  sec 
ond  wind  did  not  concern  her  any  more  than 
it  does  a  child,  whose  ordinary  mode  of  pro 
gression  is  heartbreaking.  Bennington  found 
that  he  was  engaged  in  the  most  delightful 
play  of  his  life.  He  shouted  aloud  with  the 
fun  of  it.  He  had  the  feeling  that  he  was 
grasping  at  a  sunbeam,  or  a  mist-shape  that 
always  eluded  him. 

He  would  lose  her  utterly,  and  would  stand 
quite  motionless,  listening,  for  a  long  time. 
Suddenly,  without  warning,  an  exaggerated 
leaf  crown  would  fall  about  his  neck,  and  he 
would  be  overwhelmed  with  ridicule  at  the  out- 


AND   HE   DID   EAT 


145 


rageous  figure  he  presented.  Then  for  a  time 
she  seemed  everywhere  at  once.  The  mottled 
sunlight  under  the  trees  danced  and  quivered 
after  her,  smiling  and  darkening  as  she  dimpled 
or  was  grave.  The  little  whirlwinds  of  the 
gulches  seized  the  leaves  and  danced  with  her 
too,  the  birches  and  aspens  tossed  their  hands, 
and  rising  ever  higher  and  wilder  and  more 
elf-like  came  the  mocking  cadences  of  her 
laughter. 

After  a  time  she  disappeared  again.  Ben- 
nington  stood  still,  waiting  for  some  new 
prank,  but  he  waited  in  vain.  He  instituted  a 
search,  but  the  search  was  fruitless.  He  called, 
but  received  no  reply.  At  last  he  made  his 
way  again  to  the  dell  in  which  they  had 
lunched,  and  there  he  found  her,  flat  on  her 
back,  looking  at  the  little  summer  clouds 
through  wide-open  eyes. 

Her  mood  appeared  to  have  changed.  In 
deed  that  seemed  to  be  characteristic  of  her; 
that  her  lightness  was  not  so  much  the  light 
ness  of  thistle  down,  which  is  ever  airy,  the 
sport  of  every  wind,  but  rather  that  of  the 
rose  vine,  mobile  and  swaying  in  every  breeze, 


146  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

yet  at  the  same  time  rooted  well  in  the  whole 
some  garden  earth.  She  cared  now  to  be 
silent.  In  a  little  while  Bennington  saw  that 
she  had  fallen  asleep.  For  the  first  time  he 
looked  upon  her  face  in  absolute  repose. 

Feature  by  feature,  line  by  line,  he  went 
over  it,  and  into  his  heart  crept  that  peculiar 
yearning  which  seems,  on  analysis,  half  pity  for 
what  has  past  and  half  fear  for  what  may  come. 
It  is  bestowed  on  little  children,  and  on  those 
whose  natures,  in  spite  of  their  years,  are  essen 
tially  childlike.  For  this  girl's  face  was  so- 
pathetically  young.  Its  sensitive  lips  pouted 
with  a  child's  pout,  its  pointed  chin  was  deli 
cate  with  the  delicacy  that  is  lost  when  the 
teeth  have  had  often  to  be  clenched  in  resolve; 
its  cheek  was  curved  so  softly,  its  long  eye 
lashes  shaded  that  cheek  so  purely.  Yet  some 
where,  like  an  intangible  spirit  which  dwelt  in 
it,  unseen  except  through  its  littlest  effects, 
Bennington  seemed  to  trace  that  subtle  sad 
ness,  or  still  more  subtle  mystery,  which  at 
times  showed  so  strongly  in  her  eyes.  He 
caught  himself  puzzling  over  it,  trying  to  seize 
it.  It  was  most  like  a  sorrow,  and  yet  like  a 


AND    HE   DID   EAT 

sorrow  which  had  been  outlived.  Or,  if  a 
mystery,  it  was  as  a  mystery  which  was  such 
only  to  others,  no  longer  to  herself.  The 
whole  line  of  thought  was  too  fine-drawn 
for  Bennington's  untrained  perceptions.  Yet 
again,  all  at  once,  he  realized  that  this  very 
fact  was  one  of  the  girl's  charms  to  him;  that 
her  mere  presence  stirred  in  him  perceptions, 
intuitions,  thoughts — yes,  even  powers — which 
he  had  never  known  before.  He  felt  that  she 
developed  him.  He  found  that  instead  of 
being  weak  he  was  merely  latent ;  that  now  the 
latent  perceptions  were  unfolding.  Since  he 
had  known  her  he  had  felt  himself  more  of  a 
man,  more  ready  to  grapple  with  facts  and  con 
ditions  on  his  own  behalf,  more  inclined  to 
take  his  own  view  of  the  world  and  to  act  on 
it.  She  had  given  him  independence,  for  she 
had  made  him  believe  in  himself,  and  belief  in 
one's  self  is  the  first  principle  of  independence. 
Bennington  de  Laney  looked  back  on  his  old 
New  York  self  as  on  a  being  infinitely  remote. 
She  awoke  and  opened  her  eyes  slowly,  and 
looked  at  him  without  blinking.  The  sun  had 
gone  nearly  to  the  ridge  top,  and  a  Wilson's 


THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

thrush  was  celebrating  with  his  hollow  notes 
the  artificial  twilight  of  its  shadow. 

She  smiled  at  him  a  little  vaguely,  the  mists 
of  sleep  clouding  her  eyes.  It  is  the  unguarded 
moment,  the  instant  of  awakening.  At  such 
an  instant  the  mask  falls  from  before  the  fea 
tures  of  the  soul.  I  do  not  know  what  Ben- 
nington  saw. 

"  Mary,  Mary! "  he  cried  uncontrolledly, 
"I  love  you!  I  love  you,  girl." 

He  had  never  before  seen  any  one  so  vexed. 
She  sat  up  at  once. 

"  Oh,  why  did  you  have  to  say  that!  "  she 
cried  angrily.  "  Why  did  you  have  to  spoil 
things!  Why  couldn't  you  have  let  it  go  along 
as  it  was  without  bringing  that  into  it!  " 

She  arose  and  began  to  walk  angrily  up  and 
down,  kicking  aside  the  sticks  and  stones  as 
she  encountered  them. 

"  I  was  just  beginning  to  like  you,  and  now 
you  do  this.  Oh,  I  am  so  angry!  "  She  stamped 
her  little  foot.  "  I  thought  I  had  found  a 
man  for  once  who  could  be  a  good  friend  to 
me,  whom  I  could  meet  unguardedly,  and  be 
hold!  the  third  day  he  tells  me  this! " 


AND   HE   DID   EAT 

"  I  am  sorry,"  stammered  Bennington,  his 
new  tenderness  fleeing,  frightened,  into  the 
inner  recesses  of  his  being.  "  I  beg  your  par 
don,  I  didn't  know —  Don'tl  I  won't  say  it 
again.  Please! " 

The  declaration  had  been  manly.  This  was 
ridiculously  boyish.  The  girl  frowned  at  him 
in  two  minds  as  to  what  to  do. 

"  Really,  truly,"  he  assured  her. 

She  laughed  a  little,  scornfully.  "  Very 
well,  I'll  give  you  one  more  chance.  I  like  you 
too  well  to  drop  you  entirely."  (What  an  air 
of  autocracy  she  took,  to  be  sure!)  "You 
mustn't  speak  of  that  again.  And  you  must 
forget  it  entirely."  She  lowered  at  him,  a  de 
licious  picture  of  wrath. 

They  saddled  the  horses  and  took  their  way 
homeward  in  silence.  The  tenderness  put  out 
its  flower  head  from  the  inner  sanctuary.  Ap 
parently  the  coast  was  clear.  It  ventured  a 
little  further.  The  evening  was  very  shadowy 
and  sweet  and  musical  with  birds.  The  tender 
ness  boldly  invaded  Bennington's  eyes,  and 
spoke,  oh,  so  timidly,  from  his  lips. 

"  I  will  do  just  as  you  say."  it  hesitated, 


150  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

"  and  I'll  be  very,  very  good  indeed.     But  am 

I  to  have  no  hope  at  all?  " 

"  Why  can't  you  keep  off  that  standpoint 

entirely?  " 

"  Just  that  one  question;  then  I  will." 

"  Well/'   grudgingly,   "  I   suppose  nothing 

on  earth  could  keep  the  average  mortal  from 

hoping;  but  I  can't  answer  that  there  is  any 

ground  for  it." 

"  When  can  I  speak  of  it  again?  " 

"  I   don't  know — after  the   Pioneer's   Pic 


nic." 


"  That  is  when  you  cease  to  be  a  mystery, 
isn't  it?" 

She  sighed.  "  That  is  when  I  become  a 
greater  mystery — even  to  myself,  I  fear,"  she 
added  in  a  murmur  too  low  for  him  to 
catch. 

They  rode  on  in  silence  for  a  little  space 
more.  The  night  shadows  were  flowing  down 
between  the  trees  like  vapour.  The  girl  of  her 
own  accord  returned  to  the  subject. 

"  You  are  greatly  to  be  envied,"  she  said  a 
little  sadly,  "  for  you  are  really  young.  I  am 
old,  oh,  very,  very  old!  You  have  trust  and 


AND   HE  DID    EAT  !$! 

confidence.  I  have  not.  I  can  sympathize; 
I  can  understand.  But  that  is  all.  There  is 
something  within  me  that  binds  all  my  emo 
tions  so  fast  that  I  can  not  give  way  to  them. 
I  want  to.  I  wish  I  could.  But  it  is  getting 
harder  and  harder  for  me  to  think  of  absolutely 
trusting,  in  the  sense  of  giving  out  the  self 
that  is  my  own.  Ah,  but  you  are  to  be  envied! 
You  have  saved  up  and  accumulated  the  beau 
tiful  in  your  nature.  I  have  wasted  mine,  and 
now  I  sit  by  the  roadside  and  cry  for  it.  My 
only  hope  and  prayer  is  that  a  higher  and  bet 
ter  something  will  be  given  me  in  place  of  the 
wasted,  and  yet  I  have  no  right  to  expect  it. 
Silly,  isn't  it?  "  she  concluded  bitterly. 

Bennington  made  no  reply. 

They  drew  near  the  gulch,  and  could  hear 
the  mellow  sound  of  bells  as  the  town  herd 
defiled  slowly  down  it  toward  town. 

"  We  part  here,"  the  young  man  broke  the 
long  silence.  "  When  do  I  see  you  again?  " 

"  I  do  not  know." 

"  To-morrow?  " 

"  No." 

"  Day  after?  " 


THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

The  girl  shook  herself  from  a  reverie.  "  If 
you  want  me  to  believe  you,  come  every  after 
noon  to  the  Rock,  and  wait.  Some  day  I  will 
meet  you  there." 

She  was  gone. 


CHAPTER  XII 

OLD    MIZZOU    RESIGNS 

BENNINGTON  went  faithfully  to  the  Rock 
for  four  days.  During  whole  afternoons  he  sat 
there  looking  out  over  the  Bad  Lands.  At 
sunset  he  returned  to  camp.  Aliris:  A  Romance 
of  all  Time  gathered  dust.  Letters  home  re 
mained  unwritten.  Prospecting  was  left  to  the 
capable  hands  of  Old  Mizzou  until,  much  to 
Bennington's  surprise,  that  individual  resigned 
his  position. 

The  samples  lay  in  neatly  tied  coffee  sacks 
just  outside  the  door.  The  tabulations  and  sta 
tistics  only  needed  copying  to  prepare  them 
for  the  capitalist's  eye.  The  information  nec 
essary  to  the  understanding  of  them  reposed 
in  a  grimy  notebook,  requiring  merely  throw 
ing  into  shape  as  a  letter  to  make  them  valu 
able  to  the  Eastern  owner  of  the  property. 

Anybody  could  do  that. 

'53 


THE  CLAIM  JUMPERS 

Old  Mizzou  explained  these  things  to  Ben- 
nington. 

"  You-all  does  this  jes's  well's  I,"  he  said. 
"  You  expresses  them  samples  East,  so  as  they 
kin  assay  'em;  an'  you  sends  them  notes  and 
statistics.  Then  all  they  is  to  do  is  to  pay  th' 
rest  of  the  boys  when  th'  money  rolls  in.  That 
ain't  none  of  my  funeral." 

"  But  there's  the  assessment  work,"  Ben- 
nington  objected. 

"That  comes  along  all  right.  I  aims  to 
live  yere  in  the  camp  jest  th'  same  as  usual; 
and  I'll  help  yo'  git  started  when  you-all  aims 
to  do  th'  work." 

"  What  do  you  want  to  quit  for,  then?  If 
you  live  here,  you  may  as  well  draw  your 
pay." 

"  No,  sonny,  that  ain't  my  way.  I  has  some 
prospectin'  of  my  own  to  do,  an'  as  long  as  I 
is  a  employay  of  Bishop,  I  don't  like  to  take 
his  time  fer  my  work." 

Bennington  thought  this  very  high-minded 
on  the  part  of  Old  Mizzou. 

"Very  well,"  he  agreed,  "I'll  write 
Bishop." 


OLD   MIZZOU   RESIGNS 


155 


"  Oh,  no,"  put  in  the  miner  hastily,  "no 
need  to  trouble.  I  resigns  in  writin',  of  course; 
an*  I  sees  to  it  myself." 

"  Well,  then,  if  you'll  help  me  with  the  as 
sessment  work,  when  shall  we  begin?  " 

"  C'yant  jest  now,"  reflected  Old  Mizzou, 

4  'cause,  as  I  tells  you,  I  wants  to  do  some  work 

of  my  own.    A'ter  th'  Pioneer's  Picnic,  I  reck 


ons." 


The  Pioneer's  Picnic  seemed  to  limit  many 
things. 

Bennington  shipped  the  ore  East,  tabulated 
the  statistics,  and  wrote  his  report.  About 
two  weeks  later  he  received  a  letter  from  Bish 
op  saying  that  the  assay  of  the  samples  had 
been  very  poor — not  at  all  up  to  expectations 
— and  asking  some  further  information.  As  to 
the  latter,  Bennington  consulted  Old  Mizzou. 
The  miner  said,  "  I  told  you  so,"  and  helped 
on  the  answer.  After  this  the  young  man 
heard  nothing  further  from  his  employer.  As 
no  more  checks  came  from  the  East,  he  found 
himself  with  nothing  to  do. 

For  four  afternoons,  as  has  been  said,  he 
fruitlessly  haunted  the  Rock.  On  the  fifth 


ii 


156  THE  CLAIM  JUMPERS 

morning  he  met  the  girl  on  horseback.  She  was 
quite  the  same  as  at  first,  and  they  resumed 
their  old  relations  as  if  the  fatal  picnic  had 
never  taken  place.  In  a  very  few  days  they 
were  as  intimate  as  though  they  had  known 
each  other  for  years. 

Bennington  read  to  her  certain  rewritten 
parts  of  Aliris:  A  Romance  of  all  Time,  which 
would  have  been  ridiculous  to  any  but  these 
two.  They  saw  it  through  the  glamour  of 
youth;  for,  in  spite  of  her  assertions  of  great 
age,  the  girl,  too,  felt  the  whirl  of  that  elixir 
in  her  veins.  You  see,  he  was  twenty-one  and 
she  was  twenty:  magic  years,  more  venerable 
than  threescore  and  ten.  She  gave  him  sym 
pathy,  which  was  just  what  he  needed  for  the 
sake  of  his  self-confidence  and  development, 
just  the  right  thing  for  him  in  that  effervescent 
period  which  is  so  necessary  a  concomitant  of 
growth.  The  young  business  man  indulges  in 
a  hundred  wild  schemes,  to  be  corrected  by 
older  heads.  The  young  artist  paints  strange 
impressionism,  stranger  symbolism,  and  per 
haps  a  strangest  other-ism,  before  at  last  he 
reaches  the  medium  of  his  individual  genius. 


OLD   MIZZOU    RESIGNS  157 

The  young  writer  thinks  deep  and  philosoph 
ical  thoughts  which  he  expresses  in  measured 
polysyllabic  language;  he  dreams  wild  dreams 
of  ideal  motive,  which  he  sets  forth  in  beautiful 
allegorical  tales  full  of  imagery;  and  he  de 
lights  in  Rhetoric — flower-crowned,  flashing- 
eyed,  deep-voiced  Rhetoric,  whom  he  clasps 
to  his  heart  and  believes  to  be  true,  although 
the  whole  world  declares  her  to  be  false;  and 
then,  after  a  time,  he  decides  not  to  introduce 
a  new  system  of  metaphysics,  but  to  tell  a  plain 
story  plainly.  Ah,  it  is  a  beautiful  time  to 
those  who  dwell  in  it,  and  such  a  funny  time 
to  those  who  do  not! 

They  came  to  possess  an  influence  over 
each  other.  She  decided  how  they  should 
meet;  he,  how  they  should  act.  She  had  only 
to  be  gay,  and  he  was  gay;  to  be  sad,  and  he 
was  sad;  to  show  her  preference  for  serious  dis 
course,  and  he  talked  quietly  of  serious  things; 
to  sigh  for  dreams,  and  he  would  rhapsodize. 
It  sometimes  terrified  her  almost  when  she  saw 
how  much  his  mood  depended  on  hers.  But 
once  the  mood  was  established,  her  dominance 
ceased  and  his  began.  If  they  were  sad  or  gay 


158  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

or  thoughtful  or  poetic,  it  was  in  his  way  and 
not  in  hers.  He  took  the  lead  masterfully, 
and  perhaps  the  more  effectually  in  that  it  was 
done  unconsciously.  And  in  a  way  which 
every  reader  will  understand,  but  which  genius 
alone  could  put  into  words,  this  mutual  psychi 
cal  dependence  made  them  feel  the  need  of  each 
other  more  strongly  than  any  merely  physical 
dependence  ever  could. 

There  is  much  to  do  in  a  new  and  romantic 
country,  where  the  imminence  of  a  sordid, 
dreary  future,  when  the  soil  will  raise  its  own 
people  and  the  crop  will  be  poor,  is  merci 
fully  veiled.  The  future  then  counts  little  in 
the  face  of  the  Past — the  Past  with  its  bearded 
strong  men  of  other  lands,  bringing  their 
power  and  vigour  here  to  be  moulded  and 
directed  by  the  influences  of  the  frontier.  Its 
shadow  still  lies  over  the  land. 

They  did  it  all.  The  Rock  was  still  the 
favourite  place  to  read  or  talk — crossbars 
nailed  on  firmly  made  "  shinning  "  unnecessary 
now — but  it  was  often  deserted  for  days  while 
they  explored.  Bennington  had  bought  the 
little  bronco,  and  together  they  extended  their 


OLD    MIZZOU    RESIGNS  159 

investigations  of  the  country  in  all  directions. 
They  rode  to  Spring  Creek  Valley.  They 
passed  the  Range  over  into  Custer  Valley. 
Once  they  climbed  Harney  by  way  of  Grizzly 
Gulch. 

Thus  they  grew  to  know  the  Hills  inti 
mately.  From  the  summit  of  the  Rock  they 
would  often  look  abroad  over  the  tangle  of 
valleys  and  ridges,  selecting  the  objective 
points  for  their  next  expedition.  Many  sur 
prises  awaited  them,  for  they  found  that  here, 
as  everywhere,  a  seemingly  uniform  exterior 
covered  an  almost  infinite  variety. 

Or  again,  the  horses  were  given  a  rest. 
The  sarvis-berries  ripened,  and  they  picked  hat- 
fuls.  Then  followed  the  raspberries  on  the 
stony  hills.  They  walked  four  unnecessary 
miles  to  see  a  forest  fire,  and  six  to  buy  buck 
skin  work  from  a  band  of  Sioux  who  had  come 
up  into  the  timber  for  their  annual  supply  of  te 
pee  poles.  They  taught  their  ponies  tricks. 
They  even  went  wading  together,  like  two 
small  children,  in  a  pool  of  Battle  Creek. 

Bennington  was  deliciously,  carelessly,  for 
getfully  happy.  Only  there  was  Jim  Fay. 


l6o  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

That  individual  was  as  much  of  a  persecution 
as  ever,  and  he  seemed  to  enjoy  a  greater  inti 
macy  with  the  girl  than  did  the  Easterner.  He 
did  not  see  her  as  often  as  did  the  latter,  but 
he  appeared  to  be  more  in  her  confidence. 
Bennington  hated  Jim  Fay. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE    SPIRES    OF    STONE 

ONE  afternoon  they  had  pushed  over  back 
of  Harney,  up  a  very  steep  little  trail  in  a  very 
tiny  cleft-like  canon,  verdant  and  cool.  All 
at  once  the  trail  had  stood  straight  on  end. 
The  ponies  scrambled  up  somehow,  and  they 
found  themselves  on  a  narrow  open  mesa 
splashed  with  green  moss  and  matted  with  an 
aromatic  covering  of  pine  needles. 

Beyond  the  easternmost  edge  of  the  plateau 
stood  great  spires  of  stone,  a  dozen  in  all,  sev 
eral  hundred  feet  high,  and  of  solid  granite. 
They  soared  up  grandly  into  the  open  blue,  like 
so  many  cathedral  spires,  drawing  about  them 
that  air  of  solitude  and  stillness  which  accom 
panies  always  the  sublime  in  Nature.  Even 
boundless  space  was  amplified  at  the  bidding 
of  their  solemn  uplifted  fingers.  The  girl 
reined  in  her  horse. 

"Oh!1*  she  murmured  in  a  hushed  voice, 

161 


l62  THE   CLAIM  JUMPERS 

"  I  feel  impertinent — as  though  I  were  intrud 
ing." 

A  squirrel  many  hundreds  of  feet  below 
could  be  heard  faintly  barking. 

"  There  is  something  solemn  about  them/' 
the  boy  agreed  in  the  same  tone,  "  but,  after 
all,  we  are  nothing  to  them.  They  are  think 
ing  their  own  thoughts,  far  above  everything 
in  the  world." 

She  slipped  from  her  horse. 

"  Let's  sit  here  and  watch  them,"  she  said. 
"  I  want  to  look  at  them,  and  feel  them." 

:  They  sat  on  the  moss,  and  stared  solemnly 
across  at  the  great  spires  of  stone. 

"  They  are  waiting  for  something  there," 
she.  observed;  "for  something  that  has  not 
come  to  pass,  and  they  are  looking  for  it  always 
toward  the  East.  Don't  you  see  how  they  are 
waiting?  " 

"  Yes,  like  Indian  warriors  wrapped  each  in 
his  blanket.  They  might  be  the  Manitous. 
They  say  there  are  lots  of  them  in  the  Hills." 

"Yes,  of  course!"  she  cried,  on  fire  with 
the  idea.  "  They  are  the  Gods  of  the  people, 
and  they  are  waiting  for  something  that  is 


THE  SPIRES  OF   STONE  ^3 

coming — something  from  the  East.  What  is 
it?" 

"  Civilization,"  he  suggested. 

"Yes!  And  when  this  something,  this 
Civilization,  comes,  then  the  Indians  are  to  be 
destroyed,  and  so  their  Gods  are  always  watch 
ing  for  it  toward  the  East." 

"  And,"  he  went  on,  "  when  it  comes  at 
last,  then  the  Manitous  will  have  to  die,  and 
so  the  Indians  know  that  their  hour  has  struck 
when  these  great  stone  needles  fall." 

"  Why,  we  have  made  a  legend,"  she  ex 
claimed  with  wonder. 

They  stretched  out  on  their  backs  along 
the  slope,  and  stared  up  at  the  newly  dignified 
Manitous  in  delicious  silence. 

"  There  was  a  legend  once,  you  remem 
ber? "  he  began  hesitatingly,  "the  first  day 
we  were  on  the  Rock  together.  It  was  about 
a  Spirit  Mountain." 

"  Yes,  I  remember,  the  day  Vve  saw  the 
Shadow." 

"  You  said  you'd  tell  it  to  me  some  time." 

"Did  I?" 

"  Don't  you  think  now  is  a  good  time?  " 


THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

She  considered  a  moment  idly. 

"  Why,  yes,  I  suppose  so,"  she  assented, 
after  a  pause.  "  It  isn't  much  of  a  legend 
though."  She  clasped  her  hands  back  of  her 
head.  "  It  goes  like  this,"  she  began  com 
fortably  : 

"  Once  upon  a  time,  when  the  world  was 
very  young,  there  was  an  evil  Manitou  named 
Ne-naw-bo-shoo.  He  was  a  very  wicked  Mani 
tou,  but  he  was  also  very  accomplished,  for  he 
could  change  himself  into  any  shape  he  wished 
to  assume,  and  he  could  travel  swifter  than  the 
wind.  But  he  was  also  very  wicked.  In  old 
times  the  centres  of  all  the  trees  were  fat,  and 
people  could  get  food  from  them,  but  Ne-naw- 
bo-shoo  walked  through  the  forest  and  pushed 
his  staff  down  through  the  middle  of  the 
trunks,  and  that  is  why  the  cores  of  the  trees  are 
dark-coloured.  Maple  sap  used  to  be  pure  sirup 
once,  too,  but  Ne-narv-bo-shoo  diluted  it  with 
rain  water  just  out  of  spite.  But  there  was  one 
peculiar  thing  about  Ne-naw-bo-shoo.  He 
could  not  cross  a  vein  of  gold  or  of  silver. 
There  was  some  sort  of  magic  in  them  that 
turned  him  back — repelled  him. 


THE   SPIRES  OF   STONE  jtfj 

"  Now,  one  day  two  lovers  were  wandering 
about  on  the  prairie  away  east  of  here.  One 
of  them  was  named  Mon-e-dowa,  or  the  Bird 
Lover,  and  the  other  was  Muj-e-ah-je-wan,  or 
Rippling  Water.  And  as  these  two  walked  over 
the  plains  talking  together,  along  came  the 
evil  spirit,  Ne-naw-bo-shoo,  and  as  soon  as  he 
saw  them  he  chased  them,  intending  to  kill 
them  and  drink  their  blood,  as  was  his  custom. 

"  They  fled  far  over  the  prairie.  Every 
where  that  Muj-e-ah-je-wan  stepped,  prairie 
violets  grew  up;  and  everywhere  that  Mon-e- 
dowa  stepped,  a  lark  sprang  up  and  began  to 
sing.  But  the  wicked  Ne-naw-bo-shoo  gained 
on  them  fast,  for  he  could  run  very  swiftly. 

'  Then  suddenly  they  saw  in  front  of  them 
a  great  mountain,  grown  with  pines  and 
seamed  with  fissures.  This  astonished  them 
greatly,  for  they  knew  there  were  no  moun 
tains  in  the  prairie  country  at  all;  but  they  had 
no  time  to  spare,  so  they  climbed  quickly  up 
a  broad  canon  and  concealed  themselves. 

"  Now,  when  the  wicked  Manitou  came 
along  he  tried  to  enter  the  canon  too,  but  he 
had  to  stop,  because  down  in  the  depths  of  the 


!66  THE  CLAIM   JUMPERS 

mountain  were  veins  of  gold  and  silver  which 
he  could  not  cross.  For  many  days  he  raged 
back  and  forth,  but  in  vain.  At  last  he  got 
tired  and  went  away. 

"  Then  Mon-e-dowa  and  Muj-e-ah-je-wan, 
who  had  been  living  quite  peacefully  on  the 
game  with  which  the  mountain  swarmed,  came 
out  of  the  canon  and  turned  toward  home. 
But  as  soon  as  they  had  set  foot  on  the  level 
prairie  again,  the  mountain  vanished  like  a 
cloud,  and  then  they  knew  they  had  been  aided 
by  Man-a-boo-sho,  the  good  Manitou." 

The  girl  arose  and  shook  her  skirt  free  of 
the  pine  needles  that  clung  to  it. 

,"  Ever  since  then,"  she  went  on,  eyeing 
Bennington  saucily  sideways,  "  the  mountain 
has  been  invisible  except  to  a  very  few.  The 
legend  says  that  when  a  maid  and  a  warrior 
see  it  together  they  will  be " 

"  What?  "  asked  Bennington  as  she  paused. 

"Dead  within  the  year!"  she  cried  gaily, 
and  ran  lightly  to  her  pony. 

"  Did  you  like  my  legend?  "  she  asked,  as 
the  ponies,  foot-bunched,  minced  down  the 
steepest  of  the  trail. 


THE   SPIRES   OF   STONE 

"  Very  much;  all  but  the  moral." 

"  Don't  you  want  to  die?  " 

"  Not  a  bit." 

"  Then  I'll  have  to." 

"  That  would  be  the  same  thing." 

And  Bennington  dared  talk  in  this  way, 
for  the  next  day  began  the  Pioneer's  Picnic, 
and  lately  she  had  been  very  kind. 


CHAPTER  XIV 
THE  PIONEER'S  PICNIC 

THE  Lawtons  were  not  going  to  the  picnic. 
Bennington  was  to  take  Mary  down  to  Rapid, 
where  the  girl  was  to  stay  with  a  certain  Dr. 
McPherson  of  the  School  of  Mines. 

An  early  start  was  accomplished.  They 
rode  down  the  gulch  through  the  dwarf  oaks, 
past  the  farthermost  point,  and  so  out  into 
the  hard  level  dirt  road  of  Battle  Creek  canon. 
Beyond  were  the  pines,  and  a  rugged  road, 
flint-edged,  full  of  dips  and  rises,  turns  and 
twists,  hovering  on  edges,  or  bosoming  itself 
in  deep  rock-strewn  cuts.  Mary's  little  pony 
cantered  recklessly  through  it  all,  scampering 
along  like  a  playful  dog  after  a  stone,  leading 
Bennington's  larger  animal  by  several  feet.  He 
had  full  leisure  to  notice  the  regular  flop  of  the 
Tam  o'Shanter  over  the  lighter  dance  of  the 
hair,  the  increasing  rosiness  of  the  cheeks  dim 
pled  into  almost  continual  laughter,  to  catch 

168 


THE    PIONEER'S   PICNIC  j^ 

stray  snatches  of  gay  little  remarks  thrown  out 
at  random  as  they  tore  along.  After  a  time 
they  drew  out  from  the  shadow  of  the  pines 
into  the  clearing  at  Rockerville,  where  the 
hydraulic  "  giants  "  had  eaten  away  the  hill 
sides,  and  left  in  them  ugly  unhealed  sores. 
Then  more  rough  pine-shadowed  roads,  from 
which  occasionally  would  open  for  a  moment 
broad  vistas  of  endless  glades,  clear  as  parks, 
breathless  descents,  or  sharp  steep  cuts  at  the 
bottom  of  which  Spring  Creek,  or  as  much  of 
it  as  was  not  turned  into  the  Rockerville 
sluices,  brawled  or  idled  along.  It  was  time 
for  lunch,  so  they  dismounted  near  a  deep  still 
pool  and  ate.  The  ponies  cropped  the  sparse 
grasses,  or  twisted  on  their  backs,  all  four  legs 
in  the  air.  Squirrels  chattered  and  scolded 
overhead.  Some  of  the  indigo-coloured  jays 
of  the  lowlands  shot  in  long  level  flight  be 
tween  the  trees.  The  girl  and  the  boy  helped 
each  other,  hindered  each  other,  playing  here 
and  there  near  the  Question,  but  swerving 
always  deliciously  just  in  time. 

After   lunch,    more    riding    through    more 
pines.     The  road  dipped  strongly  once,  then 


170  THE  CLAIM   JUMPERS 

again;  and  then  abruptly  the  forest  ceased, 
and  they  found  themselves  cantering  ove? 
broad  rolling  meadows  knee-high  with  grasses, 
from  which  meadow  larks  rose  in  all  directions 
like  grasshoppers.  Soon  after  they  passed  the 
canvas  "  schooners  "  of  some  who  had  started 
the  evening  before.  Down  the  next  long  slope 
the  ponies  dropped  cautiously  with  bunched 
feet  and  tentative  steps.  Spring  Creek  was 
forded  for  the  last  time,  another  steep  grassy 
hill  was  surmounted,  and  they  looked  abroad 
into  Rapid  Valley  and  over  to  the  prairie 
beyond. 

Behind  them  the  Hills  lay,  dark  with  the 
everlasting  greenery  of  the  North — even,  low, 
with  only  sun-browned  Harney  to  raise  its 
cliff-like  front  above  the  rest  of  the  range.  As 
though  by  a  common  impulse  they  reined  in 
their  horses  and  looked  back. 

"  I  wonder  just  where  the  Rock  is?  "  she 
mused. 

They  tried  to  guess  at  its  location. 

The  treeless  ridge  on  which  they  were  now 
standing  ran  like  a  belt  outside  the  Hills. 
They  journeyed  along  its  summit  until  late  in 


THE    PIONEER'S   PICNIC  171 

the  afternoon,  and  then  all  at  once  found  the 
city  of  Rapid  lying  below  them  at  the  mouth 
of  a  mighty  canon,  like  a  toy  village  on  fine 
velvet  brown. 

In  the  city  they  separated,  Mary  going  to 
the  McPhersons',  Bennington  to  the  hotel.  It 
was  now  near  to  sunset,  so  it  was  agreed  that 
Bennington  was  to  come  round  the  following 
morning  to  get  her.  At  the  hotel  Bennington 
spent  an  interesting  evening  viewing  the  pio 
neers  with  their  variety  of  costume,  manners, 
and  speech.  He  heard  many  good  stories, 
humorous  and  blood-curdling,  and  it  was  very 
late  before  he  finally  got  to  bed. 

The  immediate  consequence  was  that  he 
was  equally  late  to  breakfast.  He  hurried 
through  that  meal  and  stepped  out  into  the 
street,  with  the  intention  of  hastening  to  Dr. 
McPherson's  for  Mary,  but  this  he  found  to 
be  impossible  because  of  the  overcrowded  con 
dition  of  the  streets.  The  sports  of  the  day 
had  already  begun.  From  curb  to  curb  the 
way  was  jammed  with  a  dense  mass  of  men, 
Aromen,  and  children,  through  whom  he  had 
to  worm  his  way.  After  ten  feet  of  this,  he 


12 


1^2  THE   CLAIM  JUMPERS 

heard  his  name  called,  and  looking  up,  caught 
sight  of  Mary  herself,  perched  on  a  dry-goods 
box,  frantically  waving  a  handkerchief  in  his 
direction. 

"You're  a  nice  one!"  she  cried  in  mock 
reproach  as  he  struggled  toward  her.  Her 
eyes  were  bright  and  her  cheeks  flew  red  sig 
nals  of  enjoyment. 

Bennington  explained. 

"  I  know.  Well,  it  didn't  matter,  any  way. 
I  just  captured  this  box.  Climb  up.  There's 
room.  I've  lost  the  doctor  and  Mrs.  McPher- 
son  already." 

Two  mounted  men,  decorated  with  huge 
tin  marshals'  badges,  rode  slowly  along  forc 
ing  the  crowd  back  to  the  right  and  to  the 
left.  The  first  horse  race  was  on.  Suddenly 
there  was  an  eager  scramble,  a  cloud  of  dust, 
a  swift  impression  of  dim  ghostlike  figures.  It 
was  over.  The  crowd  flowed  into  the  street 
again. 

The  two  pressed  together,  hand  in  hand, 
on  the  top  of  the  dry-goods  box.  They 
laughed  at  each  other  and  everything.  Some 
thing  beautiful  was  very  near  to  them,  for 


THE   PIONEER'S   PICNIC 

this  was  the  Pioneer's  Picnic,  and  both  remem 
bered  that  the  Pioneer's  Picnic  marked  the 
limit  of  many  things. 

"  What's  next?  What's  next?  "  she  called 
excitedly  to  a  tall  young  cattleman. 

The  cowboy  looked  up  at  her,  and  his  face 
relaxed  into  a  pleased  smile. 

"  Why,  it's  a  drillin'  match  over  in  the  next 
street,  miss,"  he  answered  politely.  "  You'd 
better  run  right  along  over  and  get  a  good 
place."  He  glanced  at  de  Laney,  smiled  again, 
and  turned  away,  apparently  to  follow  his  own 
advice. 

"  Come  on,  we'll  follow  him,"  cried  Mary, 
jumping  down. 

"  And  abandon  our  box?  "  objected  Ben- 
nington.  But  she  was  already  in  full  pursuit  of 
the  tall  cowboy. 

The  ring  around  the  large  boulder  — 
dragged  by  mule  team  from  the  hills — had  just 
begun  to  form  when  they  arrived,  so  they  were 
enabled  to  secure  good  places  near  the  front 
rank,  where  they  kneeled  on  their  handkerchiefs, 
and  the  crowd  hemmed  them  in  at  the  back. 
The  drilling  match  was  to  determine  which 


174  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

pair  of  contestants  could  in  a  given  time,  with 
sledge  and  drill,  cut  the  deepest  hole  in  a 
granite  boulder.  To  one  who  stood  apart,  the 
sight  must  have  been  picturesque  in  the  ex 
treme.  The  white  dust,  stirred  by  restless  feet, 
rose  lazily  across  the  heated  air.  The  sun 
shone  down  clear  and  hot  with  a  certain  wide- 
eyed  glare  that  is  seen  only  in  the  rarefied  at 
mosphere  of  the  West.  Around  the  outer  edge 
of  the  ring  hovered  a  few  anxious  small  boys, 
agonized  that  they  were  missing  part  of  the 
show.  Stolidly  indifferent  Indians,  wrapped 
close  in  their  blankets,  smoked  silently,  await 
ing  the  next  pony  race,  the  riders  of  which 
were  skylarking  about  trying  to  pull  each 
other  from  their  horses'  backs. 

When  the  last  pair  had  finished,  the  judges 
measured  the  depths  of  the  holes  drilled,  and 
announced  the  victors. 

The  crowd  shouted  and  broke  for  the 
saloons.  The  latter  had  been  plying  a  brisk 
business,  so  that  men  were  about  ready  to  em 
brace  in  brotherhood  or  in  battle  with  equal 
alacrity. 

Suddenly    it    was    the    dinner   hour.      The 


THE    PIONEER'S   PICNIC  175 

crowd  broke.  Bennington  and  Mary  realized 
they  had  been  wandering  about  hand  in  hand. 
They  directed  their  steps  toward  the  McPher- 
sons  with  the  greatest  propriety.  It  was  a 
glorious  picnic. 

The  house  was  gratefully  cool  and  dark 
after  the  summer  heat  out  of  doors.  The  little 
doctor  sat  in  the  darkest  room  and  dissertated 
cannily  on  the  strange  variety  of  subjects 
which  a  Scotchman  can  always  bring  up  on  the 
most  ordinary  occasions. 

The  doctor  was  not  only  a  learned  man,  as 
was  evidenced  by  his  position  in  the  School  of 
Mines  and  his  wonderful  collections,  but  was 
a  scout  of  long  standing,  a  physician  of  merit, 
and  an  Indian  authority  of  acknowledged 
weight.  Withal  he  was  so  modest  that  these 
things  became  known  only  by  implication  or 
hearsay,  never  by  direct  evidence.  Mrs.  Mc- 
Pherson  was  not  Scotch  at  all,  but  plain  com 
fortable  American,  redolent  of  wholesome 
cleanliness  and  good  temper,  and  beaming 
with  kindliness  and  round  spectacles.  Never 
was  such  a  doctor;  never  was  such  a  Mrs. 
McPherson;  never  was  such  a  dinner!  And 


THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

they  brought  in  after-dinner  coffee  in  small 
cups. 

"Ah,  ha!  Mr.  de  Laney,"  laughed  the 
doctor,  who  had  been  watching  him  with  quiz 
zical  eye.  "  We're  pretty  bad,  but  we  aren't 
.got  quite  to  savagery  yet." 

Bennington  hastened  to  disavow. 

"That's  all  right,"  the  doctor  reassured 
him;  "that's  all  right.  I  didn't  wonder  at  ye 
in  this  country,  but  Mrs.  McPherson  and  my- 
sel'  jest  take  a  wee  trip  occasionally  to  keep  our 
wits  bright.  Isn't  it  so,  Mrs.  Mac?  " 

"It  is  that,"  said  she  with  a  doubtful 
inner  thought  as  to  the  propriety  of  offering 
cream. 

"  And  as  for  you,"  went  on  the  doc 
tor  dissertatively,  "  I  suppose  ye're  getting  to 
be  somewhat  of  a  miner  yourself.  I  mind  me 
we  did  a  bit  of  assay  work  for  your  people  the 
other  day — the  Crazy  Horse,  wasn't  it?  A 
good  claim  I  should  judge,  from  the  sample, 
and  so  I  wrote  Davidson." 

"  When  was  this?  "  asked  the  Easterner, 
puzzled. 

"  The  last  week." 


THE   PIONEER'S   PICNIC 

"  I  didn't  know  he  had  had  any  assaying 
done." 

"  O  weel,"  said  the  doctor  comfortably,  "  it 
may  not  have  occurred  to  him  to  report  yet. 
It  was  rich." 

"  Mrs.  McPherson,  let's  talk  about 
dresses,"  called  Mary  across  the  table.  "  Here 
we've  come  down  for  a  holiday  and  they  insist 
on  talking  mining." 

And  so  the  subject  was  dropped,  but  Ben- 
nington  could  not  get  it  out  of  his  mind.  Why 
should  Mizzou  have  had  the  Crazy  Horse  as 
sayed  without  saying  anything  about  it  to 
him?  Why  had  he  not  reported  the  result? 
How  did  it  happen  that  the  doctor's  assistants 
had  found  the  ore  rich  when  the  company's 
assay ers  East  had  proved  it  poor?  Why  should 
Mizzou  have  it  assayed  at  all,  since  he  was  no 
longer  connected  with  the  company?  But, 
above  all,  supposing  he  had  done  this  with  the 
intention  of  keeping  it  secret  from  Benning- 
ton,  what  possible  benefit  or  advantage  could 
the  old  man  derive  from  such  an  action? 

He  puzzled  over  this.  It  seemed  to  still 
the  effervescence  of  his  joy.  He  realized  sud- 


THE  CLAIM  JUMPERS 

denly  that  he  had  been  very  careless  in  a  great 
many  respects.  The  work  had  all  been  trusted 
to  Davidson,  while  he,  often,  had  never  even 
seen  it.  He  had  been  entirely  occupied  with 
the  girl.  He  experienced  that  sudden  sinking 
feeling  which  always  comes  to  a  man  whom 
neglected  duty  wakes  from  pleasure. 

What  was  Davidson's  object?  Could  it  be 
that  he  hoped  to  "  buy  in  "  a  rich  claim  at  a 
low  figure,  and  to  that  end  had  sent  poor  sam 
ples  East?  The  more  he  thought  of  this  the 
more  reasonable  it  seemed.  His  resignation 
was  for  the  purpose  of  putting  him  in  the  posi 
tion  of  outside  purchaser. 

He  resolved  to  carry  through  the  affair 
diplomatically.  During  the  afternoon  he  rumi 
nated  on  how  this  was  to  be  done.  Mary  could 
not  understand  his  preoccupation.  It  piqued 
her.  A  slight  strangeness  sprang  up  between 
them  which  he  was  too  distrait  to  notice. 
Finally,  as  he  tumbled  into  bed  that  night,  an 
idea  so  brilliant  came  to  him  that  he  sat  bolt 
upright  in  sheer  delight  at  his  own  astuteness. 

He  would  ask  Dr.  McPherson  for  a  copy 
of  the  assays.  If  his  suspicions  were  correct, 


THE   PIONEER'S   PICNIC  179 

these  assays  would  represent  the  richest  sam 
ples.  He  would  send  them  at  once  to  Bishop 
with  a  statement  of  the  case,  in  that  manner 
putting  the  capitalist  on  his  guard.  There  was 
something  exquisitely  humorous  to  him  in  the 
idea  of  thus  turning  to  his  own  use  the  in 
formation  which  Davidson  had  accumulated 
for  his  fraudulent  purposes.  He  went  to  sleep 
chuckling  over  it. 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE    GIRL    ON    THE    TRAIN 

THE  next  morning  the  young  man  had 
quite  regained  his  good  spirits.  The  girl,  on 
the  other  hand,  was  rather  quiet. 

Dr.  McPherson  made  no  objections  to  fur 
nishing  a  copy  of  the  assays.  The  records,  how 
ever,  were  at  the  School  of  Mines.  He  drove 
down  to  get  them,  and  in  the  interim  the  two 
young  people,  at  Mrs.  McPherson's  sugges 
tion,  went  to  see  the  train  come  in. 

The  platform  of  the  station  was  filled  to 
suffocation.  Assuming  that  the  crowd's  in 
tention  was  to  view  the  unaccustomed  loco 
motive,  it  was  strange  it  did  not  occur  to 
them  that  the  opposite  side  of  the  track  or 
the  adjacent  prairie  would  afford  more  elbow 
room.  They  huddled  together  on  the  boards 
of  the  platform  as  though  the  appearance  of 
the  spectacle  depended  on  every  last  indi 
vidual's  keeping  his  feet  from  the  naked  earth. 
1 80 


THE   GIRL   ON    THE   TRAIN  jgi 

They  pushed  good-naturedly  here  and  there, 
expostulating,  calling  to  one  another  face 
tiously,  looking  anxiously  down  the  straight, 
dwindling  track  for  the  first  glimpse  of  the 
locomotive. 

Mary  and  Bennington  found  themselves 
caught  up  at  once  into  the  vortex.  After  a 
few  moments  of  desperate  clinging  together, 
they  were  forced  into  the  front  row,  where 
they  stood  on  the  very  edge,  braced  back 
against  the  pressure,  half  laughing,  half  vexed. 

The  train  drew  in  with  a  grinding  rush. 
From  the  step  swung  the  conductor.  Faces 
looked  from  the  open  windows. 

On  the  platform  of  one  of  the  last  cars 
stood  a  young  girl  and  three  men.  One  of 
the  men  was  elderly,  with  white  hair  and  side 
whiskers.  The  other  two  were  young  and  well 
dressed.  The  girl  was  of  our  best  patrician  type 
^the  type  that  may  know  little,  think  little,  say 
little,  and  generally  amount  to  little,  and  yet 
carry  its  negative  qualities  with  so  used  an  air  of 
polite  society  as  to  raise  them  by  sheer  force 
to  the  dignity  of  positive  virtues.  From  head 
to  foot  she  was  faultlessly  groomed.  From  eye 


!82  THE    CLAIM   JUMPERS 

to  attitude  she  was  languidly  superior — the  im 
politic  would  say  bored.  Yet  every  feature  of 
her  appearance  and  bearing,  even  to  the  very 
tips  of  her  enamelled  and  sensibly  thick  boots, 
implied  that  she  was  of  a  different  class  from 
the  ordinary,  and  satisfied  on  "  common  peo 
ple  "  that  impulse  which  attracts  her  lesser 
sisters  to  the  vulgar  menagerie.  She  belonged 
to  the  proper  street — at  the  proper  time  of  day. 
Any  one  acquainted  with  the  species  would 
have  known  at  once  that  this  private-car  trip 
to  Deadwood  was  to  please  the  prosperous- 
looking  gentleman  with  the  side  whiskers, 
and  that  it  was  made  bearable  only  by  the 
two  smooth-shaven  individuals  in  the  back 
ground. 

She  caught  sight  of  the  pair  directly  in 
front  of  her,  and  raised  her  lorgnette  with  a 
languid  wrist. 

Her  stare  was  from  the  outside-the- 
menagerie  standpoint.  Bennington  was  not 
used  to  it.  For  the  moment  he  had  the  Fifth 
Avenue  feeling,  and  knew  that  he  was  not 
properly  dressed.  Therefore,  naturally,  he  was 
confused.  He  lowered  his  head  and  blushed 


THE   GIRL   ON    THE   TRAIN  183 

a  little.  Then  he  became  conscious  that  Mary's 
clear  eyes  were  examining  him  in  a  very  trou 
bled  fashion. 

Three  hours  and  a  half  afterward  it  sud 
denly  occurred  to  him  that  she  might  have 
thought  he  had  blushed  and  lowered  his  head 
because  he  was  ashamed  to  be  seen  by  this 
other  girl  in  her  company;  but  it  was  then 
too  late. 

The  train  pulled  out.  The  Westerners  at 
once  scattered  in  all  directions.  Half  an  hour 
later  the  choking  cloud  dusts  rose  like  smoke 
from  the  different  trails  that  led  north  or  south 
or  west  to  the  heart  of  the  Hills. 

"  The  picnic  is  over,"  he  suggested  gently 
at  their  noon  camping  place. 

"Yes,  thank  Heaven!" 

'*  You  remember  your  promise?  " 

"  What  promise?  " 

"  That  you  would  explain  your  *  mystery.' r 

"  I've  changed  my  mind." 

A  leaf  floated  slowly  down  the  wind.  A 
raven  croaked.  The  breeze  tnade  the  sun 
beams  waver. 


THE   CLAIM  JUMPERS 

"  Mary,  the  picnic  is  over,"  he  repeated 
again  very  gently. 

"Yes,  yes,  yes!" 

"  I  love  you,  Mary." 

The  raven  spread  his  wings  and  flew  away. 

"  Do  you  love  me?  "  he  insisted  gently. 

"  I  want  you  to  come  to  dinner  at  our  house 
to-morrow  noon." 

"  That  is  a  strange  answer,  Mary." 

"  It  is  all  the  answer  you'll  get  to-day." 

"  Why  are  you  so  cross?  Is  anything  the 
matter?  " 

"  Nothing." 

"  I  love  you,  Mary.  I  love  you,  girl.  At 
least  I  can  say  that  now." 

"  Yes,  you  can  say  it — now." 


CHAPTER  XVI 

A     NOON     DINNER 

BENNINGTON  did  not  know  what  to  make 
of  his  invitation.  At  one  moment  he  told 
himself  it  must  mean  that  Mary  loved  him,  and 
that  she  wished  him  to  meet  her  parents  on 
that  account.  At  the  next  he  tormented  him 
self  with  the  conviction  that  she  thus  merely 
avoided  the  issue.  Between  these  moods  he 
alternated,  without  being  able  to  abide  in 
either.  He  forgot  all  about  Old  Mizzou. 

Promptly  at  noon  the  following  day  he 
turned  up  the  little  right-hand  trail  for  the  first 
time. 

The  Lawton  house  he  found,  first  of  all, 
to  be  scrupulously  neat.  It  stood  on  a  knoll, 
as  do  most  gulch  cabins,  in  order  that  occa 
sional  freshets  might  pass  below,  and  the  knoll 
looked  as  though  it  had  been  clipped  with  a 
pair  of  scissors.  Not  a  crooked  little  juniper 

bush  was  allowed  to  intrude  its  plebeian  sprawl 

185 


186  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

among  the  dignified  pines  and  the  gracefully 
infrequent  bushes.  In  front  of  the  cabin  itself 
was  a  "  rockery  "  of  pink  quartz,  on  which 
were  piled  elk  antlers.  The  building  was  L- 
shaped,  of  two  low  stories,  had  a  veranda  with 
a  railing,  and  possessed  various  ornamental 
wood  edgings,  all  of  which  were  painted.  The 
whole  affair  was  mathematically  squared  and 
correspondingly  neat.  Some  boxes  and  pots  of 
flowers  adorned  the  window  ledges. 

Bennington's  knock  was  answered  by  an 
elderly  woman,  who  introduced  herself  at  once 
as  Mrs.  Lawton.  She  commenced  a  voluble 
and  slightly  embarrassed  explanation  of  how 
"  she  "  would  be  down  in  a  moment  or  so,  at 
the  same  time  leading  the  way  into  the  parlour. 
While  this  explanation  was  going  forward, 
Bennington  had  a  good  chance  to  examine  his 
hostess  and  her  surroundings. 

Mrs.  Lawton  was  of  the  fat  but  energetic 
variety.  She  fairly  shone  with  cleanliness  and 
with  an  insistent  determination  to  keep  busy. 
You  could  see  that  all  the  time  her  tongue 
was  uttering  polite  platitudes  concerning  the 
weather,  her  mind  was  hovering  like  a  dragon 


A   NOON   DINNER  187 

fly  over  this  or  that  flower  of  domestic  econo 
my.  She  was  one  of  the  women  who  carry 
their  housekeeping  to  a  perfection  uncomfort 
able  both  to  herself  and  everybody  else,  and 
then  delude  themselves  into  the  martyrlike  be 
lief  that  she  is  doing  it  all  entirely  for  others. 
As  a  consequence,  she  exhibited  much  of  the 
time  an  aggrieved  air  that  comported  but 
ludicrously  with  her  tendency  to  bustle.  And 
it  must  be  confessed  that  in  other  ways  Mrs. 
Lawton  was  ludicrous.  Her  dumpy  little  form 
was  dressed  in  the  loudest  of  prints,  the  figures 
of  which  turned  her  into  a  huge  flower  bed 
of  brilliant  cabbage-like  blooms.  Over  this 
chaos  of  colours  peered  her  round  little  face 
with  its  snapping  eyes.  She  discoursed  in  sen 
tences  which  began  coherently,  but  frayed  out 
soon  into  nothingness  under  the  stress  of  inner 
thought.  "  I  don't  see  where  that  husban'  of 
mine  is.  I  reckon  you'll  think  we're  just  awful 
rude,  Mr.  de  Laney,  and  that  gal,  an'  Maude. 
I  declare  it's  jest  enough  to  try  any  one's 
patience,  it  surely  is.  You've  no  idea,  Mr. 
de  Laney,  what  with  the  hens  settin',  and 

this    mis'able   dry    spell    that    sends    th'    dust 
13 


!88  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

all  over  everythin",  and  every  one  'way  behin' 
hand  on  everythin' "  Her  eye  was  be 
coming  vacant  as  she  wondered  about  certain 
biscuits. 

"  I'm  sure  it  must  be,"  agreed  Bennington 
uncomfortably. 

"  What  was  I  a-sayin'?  You  must  excuse 
me,  Mr.  de  Laney,  but  you,  being  a  man,  can 
have  no  idea  of  the  life  us  poor  women  folks 
lead,  slavin'  our  very  lives  away  to  keep  things 
runnin',  and  then  no  thanks  fer  it  a'ter  all. 
I'd  just  like  t'  see  Bill  Lawton  try  it  for  jest 
one  week.  He'd  be  a  ravin'  lunatic,  an'  thet  I 
tell  him  often.  This  country's  jest  awful,  too. 
I  tell  him  he  must  get  out  sometimes,  and  I 
'spect  he  will,  when  he's  made  his  pile,  poor 
man,  an'  then  we'll  have  a  chanst  to  go  back 
East  again.  When  we  lived  East,  Mr.  de  Laney, 
we  had  a  house — not  like  this  little  shack;  a 
good  house  with  nigh  on  to  a  dozen  rooms, 
and  I  had  a  gal  to  help  me  and  some  chanst  to 
buy  things  once  in  a  while,  but  now  that  Bill 
Lawton's  moved  West,  what's  goin'  to  become 
o'  me  I  don't  know.  I'm  nigh  wore  out  with 
it  all." 


A  NOON   DINNER 

"  Then  you  lived  East  once?  "  asked  Ben- 
nington. 

"  Law,  yes!  We  lived  in  Illinoy  once,  and 
th'  Lord  only  knows  I  wisht  we  lived  there  yet, 
though  the  farmin'  was  a  sight  of  work  and 
no  pay  sometimes."  The  inner  doubts  as  to  the 
biscuits  proved  too  much  for  her.  "  Heaven 
knows,  you  ain't  t'  git  much  to  eat,"  she  cried, 
jumping  up,  "  but  you  ain't  goin'  to  git  any- 
thin'  a  tall  if  I  don't  run  right  off  and  tend  to 
them  biscuit." 

She  bustled  out.  Bennington  had  time  then 
to  notice  the  decorations  of  the  "  parlour." 
They  offered  to  the  eye  a  strange  mixture  of 
the  East  and  West — reminiscences  of  the  old 
home  in  "  Illinoy  "  and  trophies  of  the  new 
camping-out  on  the  frontier.  From  the  ceiling 
hung  a  heavy  lamp  with  prismatic  danglers,  sur 
rounded  by  a  globe  on  which  were  depicted 
siags  in  the  act  of  leaping  six-barred  gates.  By 
way  of  complement  to  this  gorgeous  centre 
piece,  the  paper  on  the  walls  showed,  in  in 
finitely  recurring  duplicate,  a  huntress  in  green 
habit  and  big  hat  carrying  on  a  desperate  flirta 
tion  with  a  young  man  in  the  habiliments  of 


THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

the  fifteenth  century,  while  across  the  back 
ground  a  huddle  of  dogs  pursued  a  mammoth 
deer.  Mathematically  beneath  the  lamp  stood 
a  table  covered  with  a  red-ngured  spread.  On 
the  table  was  a  glass  bell,  underneath  which 
were  wax  flowers  and  a  poorly-stuffed  robin. 
In  one  angle  of  the  room  austerely  huddled  a 
three-cornered  "  whatnot "  of  four  shelves. 
Two  china  pugs  and  a  statuette  of  a  simpering 
pair  of  children  under  a  massive  umbrella 
adorned  this  article  of  furniture.  On  the  wall 
ticked  an  old-fashioned  square  wooden  clock. 
The  floor  was  concealed  by  a  rag  carpet.  So 
much  for  the  East.  The  West  contributed 
brilliant  green  copper  ore,  flaky  white  tin  ore, 
glittering  wrhite  quartz  ore,  shining  pyrites,  and 
one  or  two  businesslike  specimens  of  oxygen 
ated  quartz,  all  of  which  occupied  points  of  ex 
hibit  on  the  "  whatnot."  Over  the  carpet  were 
spread  a  deer  skin,  and  a  rug  made  from  the 
hide  of  a  timber  wolf.  Bennington  found  all 
this  interesting  but  depressing.  He  was  glad 
when  Mrs.  Lawton  returned  and  took  up  her 
voluble  discourse. 

In  the  midst  of  a  dissertation  on  the  relation 


A   NOON    DINNER  191 

of  corn  meal  to  eggs  the  door  opened,  and  Mr. 
Lawton  sidled  in. 

"  Oh,  here  y'  are  at  last!  "  observed  his 
spouse  scornfully,  and  rattled  on.  Lawton 
nodded  awkwardly,  and  perched  himself  on  the 
edge  of  a  chair.  He  had  assumed  an  ill-fitting 
suit  of  store  clothes,  in  which  he  unaccustom- 
edly  writhed,  and  evidently,  to  judge  from  the 
sleekness  of  his  hair,  had  recently  plunged  his 
head  in  a  pail  of  water.  He  said  nothing,  but 
whenever  Mrs.  Lawton  was  not  looking  he 
winked  elaborately  and  solemnly  at  Bennington 
as  though  to  imply  that  circumstances  alone 
prevented  any  more  open  show  of  cordiality. 
At  last,  catching  the  young  man's  eye  at  a  more 
than  usually  propitious  moment,  he  went 
through  the  pantomime  of  opening  a  bottle, 
then  furtively  arose  and  disappeared.  Mrs. 
Lawton,  remembering  her  cakes,  ran  out.  Ben 
nington  was  left  alone  again.  He  had  not 
spoken  six  words. 

The  door  slowly  opened,  and  another  mem 
ber  of  the  family  sidled  in.  Bennington  owned 
a  helpless  feeling  that  this  was  a  sort  of  show, 
and  that  these  various  actors  in  it  were  parading 


THE   CLAIM  JUMPERS 

their  entrances  and  their  exits  before  him.  Or 
that  he  himself  were  the  object  of  inspection 
on  whom  the  others  were  satisfying  their  own 
curiosity. 

The  newcomer  was  a  child,  a  little  girl 
about  eight  or  ten  years  old.  Bennington 
liked  children  as  a  usual  thing.  No  one 
on  earth  could  have  become  possessed  in  this 
one's  favour.  She  was  a  creature  of  regular 
but  mean  features,  extreme  gravity,  and  evi 
dently  of  an  inquiring  disposition.  On  see 
ing  her  for  the  first  time,  one  sophisticated 
would  have  expected  a  deluge  of  questions. 
Bennington  did.  But  she  merely  stood  and 
stared  without  winking. 

"Hullo,  little  girl!"  Bennington  greeted 
her  uneasily. 

The  creature  only  stared  the  harder. 

"  My  doll's  name  is  Garnet  M-a-ay,"  she  ob 
served  suddenly,  with  a  long-drawn  nasal  ac 
cent. 

After  this  interesting  bit  of  information  an 
other  silence  fell. 

"  What  is  your  name,  little  girl?  "  Benning 
ton  asked  desperately  at  last. 


A  NOON    DINNER  193 

"  Maude,"  remarked  the  phenomenon 
briefly. 

This  statement  she  delivered  in  that  whin 
ing  tone  which  the  extremely  self-conscious  in 
fant  imagines  to  indicate  playful  childishness. 
She  approached. 

"  D'  you  want  t'  see  my  picters? "  she 
whimpered  confidingly. 

Bennington  expressed  his  delight. 

For  seven  geological  ages  did  he  gaze  upon 
cheap  and  horrible  woodcuts  of  gentlemen  in 
fashionable  raiment  trying  to  lean  against  con 
spicuously  inadequate  rustic  gates;  equally 
fashionable  ladies,  with  flat  chests,  and  rat's 
nest  hair;  and  animals  whose  attitudes  denoted 
playful  sportiveness  of  disposition.  Each  of 
these  pictures  was  explained  in  minute  detail. 
Bennington's  distress  became  apathy.  Mrs. 
Lawton  returned  from  the  cakes  presently,  yet 
her  voice  seemed  to  break  in  on  the  duration  of 
centuries. 

"Now,  Maude!"  she  exclaimed,  with  a 
proper  maternal  pride,  "  you  mustn't  be  both- 
erin'  the  gentleman."  She  paused  to  receive  the 
expected  disclaimer.  It  was  made,  albeit  a  little 


THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

weakly.  "  Maude  is  very  good  with  her  Book/' 
she  explained.  "  Miss  Brown,  that's  the  school 
teacher  that  comes  over  from  Hill  Town  sum 
mers,  she  says  Maude  reads  a  sight  better  than 
lots  as  is  two  or  three  years  older.  Now  how 
old  would  you  think  she  was,  Mr.  de  Laney?  " 

Mr.  de  Laney  tried  to  appraise,  while  the 
object  hung  her  head  self-consciously  and 
twisted  her  feet.  He  had  no  idea  of  chil 
dren's  ages. 

"  About  eleven,"  he  guessed,  with  an  air  of 
wisdom. 

"Jest  eight  an*  a  half!"  cried  the  dame, 
folding  her  hands  triumphantly.  She  let  her 
fond  maternal  gaze  rest  on  the  prodigy.  Sud 
denly  she  darted  forward  with  extraordinary 
agility  for  one  so  well  endowed  with  flesh,  and 
seized  her  offspring  in  relentless  grasp. 

"  I  do  declare,  Maude  Eliza!  "  she  exclaimed 
in  horror-stricken  tones,  "  you  ain't  washed 
your  ears!  You  come  with  me!  " 

They  disappeared  in  a  blue  mist  of  wails. 

As  though  this  were  his  cue,  the  crafty  fea 
tures  of  Lawton  appeared  cautiously  in  the 
doorway,  bestowed  a  furtive  and  searching  in- 


A   NOON    DINNER  195 

spection  on  the  room,  and  finally  winked  sol 
emnly  at  its  only  occupant.  A  hand  was  in 
serted.  The  forefinger  beckoned.  Bennington 
arose  wearily  and  went  out. 

Lawton  led  the  way  to  a  little  oat  shed 
standing  at  some  distance  from  the  house.  Be 
hind  this  he  paused.  From  beneath  his  coat  he 
drew  a  round  bottle  and  two  glass  tumblers. 

"  No  joke  skippin'  th'  ole  lady,"  he  chuckled 
in  an  undertone.  He  poured  out  a  liberal  por 
tion  for  himself,  and  passed  the  bottle  along. 
Bennington  was  unwilling  to  hurt  the  old  fel 
low's  feelings  after  he  had  taken  so  much 
trouble  on  his  account,  but  he  was  equally  un 
willing  to  drink  the  whisky.  So  he  threw  it 
away  when  Lawton  was  not  looking. 

They  walked  leisurely  toward  the  house, 
Lawton  explaining  various  improvements  in  a 
loud  tone  of  voice,  intended  more  to  lull  his 
wife's  suspicions  than  to  edify  the  young  man. 
The  lady  looked  on  them  sternly,  and  an 
nounced  dinner.  At  the  table  Bennington 
found  Mary  already  seated. 

The  Easterner  was  placed  next  to  Mrs. 
Lawton.  At  his  other  hand  was  Maude  Eliza. 


196  THE  CLAIM  JUMPERS 

Mary  sat  opposite.  Throughout  the  meal  she 
said  little,  and  only  looked  up  from  her  plate 
when  Bennington's  attention  was  called  an 
other  way. 

Her  mere  presence,  however,  seemed  to 
open  to  the  young  man  a  different  point  of  view. 
He  found  Mrs.  Lawton's  lengthy  dissertations 
amusing;  he  considered  Mr.  Lawton  in  the  light 
of  a  unique  character,  and  Maude  Eliza,  while  as 
disagreeable  as  ever,  came  in  for  various  excuses 
and  explanations  on  her  own  behalf  in  the  young 
man's  mind.  He  became  more  responsive.  He 
told  a  number  of  very  good  stories,  at  which  the 
others  laughed.  He  detailed  some  experiences 
of  his  own  at  places  in  the  world  far  remote, 
selected,  it  must  be  confessed,  with  some  slight 
reference  to  their  dazzling  effect  on  the  com 
pany.  Without  actually  "  showing  off,"  he 
managed  to  get  the  effect  of  it.  The  result  of 
his  efforts  was  to  harmonize  to  some  extent 
these  diverse  elements.  Mrs.  Lawton  became 
more  coherent,  Mr.  Lawton  more  communi 
cative;  Maude  Eliza  stopped  whining — occa 
sionally  and  temporarily.  Bennington  had 
rarely  been  in  such  high  spirits.  He  was  sur- 


A  NOON   DINNER 

prised  himself,  but  then  was  not  that  day  of 
moment  to  him,  and  would  he  not  have  been 
a  strange  sort  of  individual  to  have  seen  in  the 
world  aught  but  brightness? 

But  Mary  responded  not  at  all.  Rather,  as 
Bennington  arose,  she  fell,  until  at  last  she 
hardly  even  moved  in  her  place. 

"  Chirk  up,  chirk  up!  "  cried  Mrs.  Lawton 
gaily,  for  her.  "  I  know  some  one  who  ought  to 
be  happy,  anyhow."  She  glanced  meaningly 
from  one  to  the  other  and  laughed  heartily. 

Bennington  felt  a  momentary  disgust  at  her 
tactlessness,  but  covered  it  with  some  laughing 
sally  of  his  own.  The  meal  broke  up  in  great 
good  humour.  Mrs.  Lawton  and  Maude  Eliza 
remained  to  clear  away  the  dishes.  Mr.  Lawton 
remarked  that  he  must  get  back  to  work,  and 
shook  hands  in  farewell  most  elaborately.  Ben 
nington  laughingly  promised  them  all  that  he 
would  surely  come  again.  Then  he  escaped, 
and  followed  Mary  up  the  hill,  surmising  truly 
enough  that  she  had  gone  on  toward  the  Rock. 
He  thought  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  her  through 
the  elders.  He  hastened  his  footsteps.  At  this 
he  stumbled  slightly.  From  his  pocket  fell  a 


198  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

letter  he  had  received  that  morning.  He  picked 
it  up  and  looked  at  it  idly. 

It  was  from  his  mother,  and  covered  a  num 
ber  of  closely-written  pages.  As  he  was  about 
to  thrust  it  back  into  his  pocket  a  single  sen 
tence  caught  his  eye.  It  ran:  "  Sally  Ogletree 
gave  a  supper  last  week,  which  was  a  very  pretty 
affair." 

He  stopped  short  on  the  trail,  and  the  world 
seemed  to  go  black  around  him.  He  almost 
fell.  Then  he  resumed  his  way,  but  his  step  now 
was  hesitating  and  slow,  and  he  walked  with 
his  eyes  bent  thoughtfully  on  the  ground. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

NOBLESSE    OBLIGE 

THE  thought  which  caused  Bennington  de 
Laney  so  suddenly  to  look  grave  was  suggested 
by  the  sentence  in  his  mother's  letter.  For  the 
first  time  he  realized  that  these  people,  up  to 
now  so  amusing,  were  possibly  destined  to  come 
into  intimate  relations  with  himself.  Old  Bill 
Lawton  was  Mary's  father;  Mrs.  Lawton  was 
Mary's  mother;  Maude  was  Mary's  sister. 

The  next  instant  a  great  rush  of  love  into 
his  heart  drove  this  feeling  from  it.  What  mat 
ter  anything,  provided  she  loved  him  and  he 
loved  her?  Generous  sentiment  so  filled  him 
that  there  was  room  for  nothing  else.  He  even 
experienced  dimly  in  the  depths  of  his  con 
sciousness  a  faint  pale  joy  that  in  thus  accept 
ing  what  was  disagreeable  to  his  finer  sensibili 
ties,  he  was  proving  more  truly  to  his  own  self 
the  boundlessness  of  his  love.  For  the  moment 

ne  was  exalted  by  this  instant  revulsion  against 

199 


200  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

anything  calculating  in  his  passion.  And  then 
slowly,  one  by  one,  the  objections  stole  back, 
like  a  flock  of  noisome  sombre  creatures  put  to 
flight  by  a  sudden  movement,  but  now  return 
ing  to  their  old  nesting  places.  The  very  un 
assuming  method  of  their  recurrence  lent  them 
an  added  influence.  Almost  before  Bennington 
knew  it  they  had  established  a  case,  and  he 
found  himself  face  to  face  with  a  very  ugly 
problem. 

Perhaps  it  will  be  a  little  difficult  for  the 
average  and  democratic  reader  to  realize  fully 
the  terrible  proportions  of  this  problem.  We 
whose  lives  assume  little,  require  little  of  them. 
Intangible  objections  to  the  desires  of  our 
hearts  do  not  count  for  much  against  their  reali 
zation;  there  needs  the  rough  attrition  of  reality 
to  turn  back  our  calm,  complacent  acquisition 
of  that  which  we  see  to  be  for  our  best  interest 
in  the  emotional  world.  Claims  of  ancestry 
mean  nothing.  Claims  of  society  mean  not 
much  more.  Claims  of  wealth  are  considered  as 
evanescent  among  a  class  of  men  who,  by  their 
efforts  and  genius,  are  able  to  render  absolute 
wealth  itself  an  evanescent  quality.  When  one 


NOBLESSE   OBLIGE  2OI 

of  us  loves,  he  questions  the  worth  of  the  object 
of  his  passion.  That  established,  nothing  else 
is  of  great  importance.  There  is  a  grand  and 
noble  quality  in  this,  but  it  misses  much. 
About  the  other  state  of  affairs — wherein  the 
woman's  appurtenances  of  all  kinds,  as  well  as 
the  woman  herself,  are  significant — is  a  delicate 
and  subtle  aura  of  the  higher  refinement — the 
long  refinement  of  the  spirit  through  many  gen 
erations — which,  to  an  eye  accustomed  to  look 
for  gradations  of  moral  beauty,  possesses  a 
peach-blow  iridescence  of  its  own.  From  one 
point  of  view,  the  old-fashioned  forms  of 
thought  and  courtesy  are  stilted  and  useless. 
From  another  they  retain  still  the  lofty  dignity 
of  noblesse  oblige. 

So  we  would  have  none  set  down  Benning- 
ton  de  Laney  as  a  prig  or  a  snob  because  he 
did  not  at  once  decide  for  his  heart  as  against 
his  aristocratic  instincts.  Not  only  all  his  early 
education,  but  the  life  lessons  of  many  genera 
tions  of  ancestors  had  taught  him  to  set  a  ficti 
tious  value  on  social  position.  He  was  a  de 
Laney  on  both  sides.  He  had  never  been  al 
lowed  to  forget  it.  A  long  line  of  forefathers, 


202  THE   CLAIM  JUMPERS 

;proud-eyed  in  their  gilded  frames,  mutely  gazed 
their  sense  of  the  obligations  they  had  be 
queathed  to  this  last  representative  of  their 
race.  When  one  belongs  to  a  great  family  he 
can  not  live  entirely  for  himself.  His  disgrace 
or  failure  reflects  not  alone  on  his  own  reputa 
tion,  but  it  sullies  the  fair  fame  of  men  long 
dead  and  buried;  and  this  is  a  dreadful  thing. 
For  all  these  old  Puritans  and  Cavaliers,  these 
knights  and  barons,  these  king's  councillors  and 
scholars,  have  perchance  lived  out  the  long 
years  of  their  lives  with  all  good  intent  and  pur 
pose  and  with  all  earnestness  of  execution, 
merely  that  they  might  build  and  send  down  to 
posterity  this  same  fair  fame.  It  is  a  bold  man, 
or  a  wicked  man,  who  will  dare  lightly  to  bring 
the  efforts  of  so  many  lives  to  naught!  In  the 
thought  of  these  centuries  of  endeavour,  the 
sacrifice  of  mere  personal  happiness  does  not 
seem  so  great  an  affair  after  all.  The  Family 
Name  has  taken  to  itself  a  soul.  It  is  a  living 
thing.  It  may  be  worked  for,  it  may  be  nour 
ished  by  affection,  it  may  even  be  worshipped. 
Men  may  give  their  lives  to  it  with  as  great  a 
devotion,  with  as  exalted  a  sense  of  renuncia- 


NOBLESSE   OBLIGE  203 

tion,  and  as  lofty  a  joy  in  that  renunciation,  as 
those  who  vow  allegiance  to  St.  Francis  or  St. 
Dominic.  The  tearing  of  the  heart  from  the 
bosom  often  proves  to  be  a  mortal  hurt  when 
there  is  nothing  to  put  in  the  gap  of  its  empti 
ness.  Not  so  when  a  tradition  like  this  may 
partly  take  its  place. 

These,  and  more  subtle  considerations,  were 
the  noblest  elements  of  Bennington  de  Laney's 
doubts.  But  perhaps  they  were  no  more  potent 
than  some  others  which  rushed  through  the 
breach  made  for  them  in  the  young  man's 
decision. 

He  had  always  lived  so  much  at  home  that 
he  had  come  to  accept  the  home  point  of  view 
without  question.  That  is  to  say,  he  never  ex 
amined  the  value  of  his  parent's  ideas,  because 
it  never  occurred  to  him  to  doubt  them.  He 
had  no  perspective. 

In  a  way,  then,  he  accepted  as  axioms  the 
social  tenets  held  by  his  mother,  or  the  busi 
ness  methods  practised  by  his  father.  He  be 
lieved  that  elderly  men  should  speak  precisely, 
and  in  grammatical,  but  colourless  Eng 
lish.  He  believed  also  that  people  should,  in 
u 


2Q4  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

society,  conduct  themselves  according  to  the 
fashion-plate  pattern  designed  by  Mrs.  de 
Laney.  He  believed  these  things,  not  because 
he  was  a  fool,  or  shallow,  or  lacking  in  humour, 
or  snobbish,  but  because  nothing  had  ever  hap 
pened  to  cause  him  to  examine  his  beliefs  close 
ly,  that  he  might  appreciate  what  they  really 
were.  One  of  these  views  was,  that  cultured 
people  were  of  a  class  in  themselves,  and  could 
not  and  should  not  mix  with  other  classes.  Mrs. 
de  Laney  entertained  a  horror  of  vulgarity.  So 
deep-rooted  was  this  horror  that  a  remote  taint 
of  it  was  sufficient  to  thrust  forever  outside  the 
pale  of  her  approbation  any  unfortunate  who 
exhibited  it.  She  preferred  stupidity  to  com 
mon  sense,  when  the  former  was  allied  with 
good  form,  and  the  latter  only  with  plain  kind 
liness.  This  was  partly  instinct  and  partly  the 
result  of  cultivation.  She  would  shrink,  with 
uncontrollable  disgust,  from  any  of  the  lower 
classes  with  whom  she  came  unavoidably  in  con 
tact.  A  slight  breach  of  the  conventions  earned 
her  distrust  of  one  of  her  own  caste.  As  this 
personal  idiosyncrasy  fell  in  line  with  the  de 
Laney  pride,  it  was  approved  by  the  head  of 


NOBLESSE   OBLIGE  205 

the  family.     Under  encouragement  it  became 
almost  a  monomania. 

Bennington  pictured  to  himself  only  too 
vividly  the  effect  of  the  Lawtons  on  this  lady's 
aristocratic  prejudices.  He  knew,  only  too  well, 
that  Bill  Lawton's  table  manners  would  not  be 
allowed  even  in  her  kitchen.  He  could  imagine 
Mrs.  Lawton's  fatuous  conversation  in  the  de 
Laney  drawing-room,  or  Maude  Eliza's  dressed- 
up  self-consciousness.  The  experience  of  hav 
ing  the  three  Westerners  to  dinner  just  once 
would,  Bennington  knew,  drive  his  lady  mother 
to  the  verge  of  nervous  prostration — he  remem 
bered  his  father's  one  and  only  experience  in 
bringing  business  connections  home  to  lunch — ; 
his  imagination  failed  to  picture  the  effect  of 
her  having  to  endure  them  as  actual  members 
of  the  family!  As  if  this  were  not  bad  enough, 
his  restless  fancy  carried  him  a  step  farther.  He 
perceived  the  agonies  of  shame  and  mortifica 
tion,  real  even  though  they  were  conventional, 
she  would  have  to  endure  in  the  face  of  society. 
That  the  de  Laneys,  social  leaders,  rigid  in  re 
spectability,  should  be  forced  to  the  humiliation 
of  acknowledging  a  mesalliance,  should  be 


206  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

forced  to  the  added  humiliation  of  confessing 
that  this  marriage  was  not  only  with  a  family 
of  inferior  social  standing,  but  with  one  actually 
unlettered  and  vulgar!  Bennington  knew  only 
too  well  the  temper  of  his  mother — and  of 
society. 

It  would  not  be  difficult  to  expand  these 
doubts,  to  amplify  these  reasons,  and  even  to 
adduce  others  which  occurred  to  the  unhappy 
young  man  as  he  climbed  the  hill.  But  enough 
has  been  said.  Surely  the  reader,  no  matter 
how  removed  in  sympathy  from  that  line  of 
argument,  must  be  able  now  at  least  to  sym 
pathize,  to  perceive  that  Bennington  de  Laney 
had  some  reason  for  thought,  some  excuse  for 
the  tardiness  of  his  steps  as  they  carried  him  to 
a  meeting  with  the  girl  he  loved. 

For  he  did  love  her,  perhaps  the  more  ten 
derly  that  doubts  must,  perforce,  arise.  All 
these  considerations  affected  not  at  all  his 
thought  of  her.  But  now,  for  the  first  time, 
Bennington  de  Laney  was  weighing  the  relative 
claims  of  duty  and  happiness.  His  happiness 
depended  upon  his  love.  That  his  duty  to  his 
race,  his  parents,  his  caste  had  some  reality  in 


NOBLESSE  OBLIGE  207 

fact,  and  a  very  solid  reality  in  his  own  estima 
tion,  the  author  hopes  he  has  shown.  If  not, 
several  pages  have  been  written  in  vain. 

The  conflict  in  his  mind  had  carried  him  to 
the  Rock.  Here,  as  he  expected,  he  found  Mary 
already  arrived.  He  ascended  to  the  little 
plateau  and  dropped  wearily  to  the  moss. 
His  face  had  gone  very  white  in  the  last  quarter 
of  an  hour. 

"  You  see  now  why  I  asked  you  to  come 
to-day,"  she  said  without  preliminary.  "  Now 
you  have  seen  them,  and  there  is  nothing  more 
to  conceal." 

"  I  know,  I  know,"  he  replied  dully.  "  I 
am  trying  to  think  it  out.  I  can't  see  it  yet." 

They  took  entirely  for  granted  that  each 
knew  the  subject  of  the  other's  thoughts.  The 
girl  seemed  much  the  more  self-possessed  of 
the  two. 

"  We  may  as  well  understand  each  other," 
she  said  quietly,  without  emotion.  "  You  have 
told  me  a  certain  thing,  and  have  asked  me  for 
a  certain  answer.  I  could  not  give  it  to  you  be 
fore  without  deceiving  you.  Now  the  answer 
depends  on  you.  I  have  deceived  you  in  a  way," 


20S  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

she  went  on  more  earnestly,  "  but  I  did  not 
mean  to.  I  did  not  realize  the  difference,  truly 
I  didn't,  until  I  saw  the  girl  on  the  train.  Then 
I  knew  the  difference  between  her  and  me,  and 
between  her's  and  mine.  And  when  you  turned 
away,  I  saw  that  you  were  her  kind,  and  I  saw, 
too,  that  you  ought  to  know  everything  there 
Was  about  me.  Then  you  spoke.0 

"  I  meant  what  I  said,  too,"  he  interrupted. 
"  You  must  believe  that,  Mary,  whatever 
comes." 

"  I  was  sorry  you  did,"  she  went  on,  as 
though  she  had  not  heard  him.  Then  with  just 
a  touch  of  impatience  tingeing  the  even  calm 
of  her  voice,  "  Oh,  why  will  men  insist  on  say 
ing  those  things!"  she  cried.  "The  way  to 
win  a  girl  is  not  thus.  He  should  see  her  often, 
without  speaking  of  love,  being  everything  to 
her,  until  at  last  she  finds  she  can  not  live  with 
out  him." 

"  Have  I  been  that  to  you,  Mary?  Has 
it  come  to  that  with  me? "  he  asked  wist 
fully. 

"  Heaven  help  me,  I  am  afraid  it  has! "  she 
sried,  burying  her  face  in  her  hands. 


NOBLESSE   OBLIGE  209 

A  great  gladness  leaped  up  into  his  face, 
and  died  as  the  blaze  of  a  fire  leaps  up  and 
expires. 

"  That  makes  it  easier — and  harder,"  he 
said.  "  It  is  bad  enough  as  it  is.  I  don't  know 
how  I  can  make  you  understand,  dear." 

"  I  understand  more  than  you  think,"  she 
replied,  becoming  calm  again,  and  letting  her 
hands  fall  into  her  lap.  "  I  am  going  to  speak 
quite  plainly.  You  love  me,  Ben — ah,  don't  I 
know  it !  "  she  cried,  with  a  sudden  burst  of  pas 
sion.  "  I  have  seen  it  in  your  eyes  these  many 
days.  I  have  heard  it  in  your  voice.  I  have 
felt  it  welling  out  from  your  great  heart.  It 
has  been  sweet  to  me — so  sweet !  You  can  not 
know,  no  man  ever  could  know,  how  that  love 
of  yours  has  filled  my  soul  and  my  heart  until 
there  was  room  for  nothing  else  in  the  whole 
wide  world!  " 

'You  love  me!"  he  said  wonderingly. 

"  If  I  had  not  known  that,  do  you  think  I 
would  have  endured  a  moment's  hesitation  after 
you  had  seen  the  objectionable  features  of  my 
life?  Do  you  think  that  if  I  had  the  slightest 
doubts  of  your  love,  I  could  now  understand 


210  THE  CLAIM   JUMPERS 

why  you  hesitate?    But  I  do,  and  I  honour  you 
for  it." 

"  You  love  me!  "  he  repeated. 
'  Yes,  yes,  Ben  dear,  I  do  love  you.  I  love 
you  as  I  never  thought  to  be  permitted  to  love. 
Do  you  want  to  know  what  I  did  that  second 
day  on  the  Rock — the  day  you  first  showed  me 
what  you  really  were?  The  day  you  told  me 
of  your  old  home  and  the  great  tree?  It  was 
all  so  peaceful,  and  tender,  and  comforting,  so 
sweet  and  pure,  that  it  rested  me.  I  felt,  here 
is  a  man  at  last  who  could  not  misunderstand 
me,  could  not  be  abrupt,  and  harsh,  and  cruel. 
I  said  to  myself,  '  He  is  not  perfect  nor  does  he 
expect  perfection/  I  shut  my  eyes,  and  then 
something  choked  me,  and  the  tears  came.  I 
cried  out  loud,  *  Oh,  to  be  what  I  was,  to  give 
again  what  I  have  not!  O  God,  give  me  back 
my  heart  as  it  once  was,  and  let  me  love! '  Yes, 
Ben  dear,  I  said  '  love/  And  then  I  was  not 
happy  any  more  all  day.  But  God  answered 
that  prayer,  Ben  dear,  and  we  do  love  one  an 
other  now,  and  that  is  why  we  can  look  at 
things  together,  and  see  what  is  best  for  us 
both." 


N011LKSSK  ODLICK  .>  u 

"  You  love  me!  "  lu-  exclaimed  lot  the  thud 
time. 

"  And  now,  dear,  we  must  I. ilk  plainly  .ind 
calmly.  Yon  have  seen  u  li.it  my  l.iiuiU 

"  I   don't   know,    M.iiv,  that    I   ran  make  \  on 
understand  at  all,"  hc««an   UcinnmMon  hclple  .  , 
ly.      "  I    can't    cxpiess   it    rvm    to   niNsc'll.      (  >ur 
people  air  so  dillrivnt.       Mv    tiainiii!1.    h.i  ,   ITCH 

liliCi  rnl .  All  I  his  sort  of  t  limr,  HHMIP.  s<  > 
linn  h  to  us,  and  so  lit  t  lr  to  \ «  m 

"  I     know    exactly,"    slu-    mtci  i  nplcd.       "  1 
have  read,  and   I   have  lived    l-'.a-.l.      1   ran  .ippic 
eiate  just   how  it   is.     See  il   1  can  not   ic.id   \i>m 
I  In  Mil-lit-,.       M  \    l.iiinl\    is  niieduealed.       l!   it    he 
eonies    \onr    famdv,    v«»ur   '»\\n    paienl.    will    he 
more    th.in    i'iic\cd,   and    your    liu-nd.    \\ill    havr 
little    to    do    \\ilh    you.       N'oit    have    al.«»    dulif. 
tow. ud    \oni    l.iiinK  ,  <;.s   a    t.iniilv        I',   t  hat    il 

"  \'cs.  that  M  it,"  answered  he,  "  hut  thcic 
.nc  si .  ni.inv  t  him-  .  it  doe-,  m>t  .i\  1 1  eem  . 
tO  me  it  has  Come  to  he  a  honihle  dilrmma 
wit  h  me.  If  I  do  what  1  am  ah  aid  i  .  inv 
duty  to  mv  f.nnilv  and  mv  people,  1  will  he 
unhappy  without  yon  ton-ver.  And  if  I  follow 
my  heart,  then  it  -.eems  to  me  I  will  NVIOUJ; 


212    '  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

myself,  and  will  be  unhappy  that  way.  It  seems 
a  choice  of  just  in  what  manner  I  will  be  miser 
able!  "  he  ended  with  a  ghastly  laugh. 

"  And  which  is  the  most  worth  while?  "  she 
asked  in  a  still  voice. 

"  I  don't  know,  I  don't  know!"  he  cried 
miserably.  "  I  muet  think." 

He  looked  out  straight  ahead  of  him  for 
some  time.  "  Whichever  way  I  decide,"  he  said 
after  a  little,  "  I  want  you  to  know  this,  Mary: 
I  love  you,  and  I  always  will  love  you,  and  the 
fact  that  I  choose  my  duty,  if  I  do,  is  only 
that  if  I  did  not,  I  would  not  consider  myself 
worthy  even  to  look  at  you."  A  silence  fell 
on  them  again. 

"  I  can  not  live  West,"  said  he  again,  as 
though  he  had  been  arguing  this  point  in  his 
mind  and  had  just  reached  the  conclusion  of  it. 
"  My  life  is  East;  I  never  knew  it  until  now." 
He  hesitated.  "  Would  you — that  is,  could  you 
— I  mean,  would  your  family  have  to  live  East 
too?  " 

She  caught  his  meaning  and  drew  herself  up, 
with  a  little  pride  in  the  movement. 

"  Wherever  I  go,  whatever  I  do,  my  people 


NOBLESSE  OBLIGE  213 

must  be  free  to  go  or  do.  You  have  your  duty 
to  your  family.  I  have  my  duty  to  mine!  " 

He  bowed  his  head  quietly  in  assent.  She 
looked  at  the  struggle  depicted  in  the  lines  of 
his  face  with  eyes  in  which,  strangely  enough, 
was  much  pity,  but  no  unhappiness  or  doubt. 
Could  it  be  that  she  was  so  sure  of  the  result? 

At  last  he  raised  his  head  slowly  and  turned 
to  her  with  an  air  of  decision. 

"  Mary "  he  began. 

At  that  moment  there  became  audible  a 
sudden  rattle  of  stones  below  the  Rock,  and 
at  the  same  instant  a  harsh  voice  broke  in 
rudely  upon  their  conversation. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE    CLAIM    JUMPERS 

BENNINGTON  instinctively  put  his  finger  on 
his  lips  to  enjoin  silence,  and  peered  cautiously 
over  the  edge  of  the  dike.  Perhaps  he  was 
glad  that  this  diversion  had  occurred  to  post 
pone  even  for  a  short  time  the  announcement 
of  a  decision  it  had  cost  him  so  much  to  make. 
Perhaps  he  recognised  the  voice. 

Three  men  were  clambering  a  trifle  labori 
ously  over  the  broken  rocks  at  the  foot  of  the 
dike,  swearing  a  little  at  their  unstable  foot 
ing,  but  all  apparently  much  in  earnest  in  their 
conversation.  Even  as  Bennington  looked  they 
came  to  a  halt,  and  then  sank  down  each  on  a 
convenient  rock,  talking  interestedly.  One  was 
Old  Mizzou,  one  was  the  man  Arthur,  the  third 
was  a  stranger  whom  Bennington  had  never 
seen. 

The  latter  had  hardly  the  air  of  the  country. 
He  was  a  dapper  little  man  dressed  in  a  dark 

214 


THE  CLAIM  JUMPERS  215 

gray  bob-tailed  cutaway,  and  a  brown  derby 
hat,  which  was  pushed  far  back  on  his  head. 
His  face,  however,  was  keen  and  alert  and 
brown,  all  of  which  characteristics  indicated  an 
active  Western  life  at  no  very  remote  day.  The 
words  which  had  so  powerfully  arrested  Ben- 
nington  de  Laney's  attention  were  delivered  by 
Old  Mizzou  to  this  stranger. 

"  Thar!  "  the  old  man  had  said,  "  ain't  that 
Crazy  Hoss  Lode  'bout  as  good-lookin'  a  lead 
as  they  make  'em?  " 

"So,  so;  so,  so;"  replied  the  man  in  the 
derby  in  a  high  voice.  "  Your  vein  is  a  fissure 
vein  all  right  enough,  and  you've  got  a  good 
wide  lead.  If  it  holds  up  in  quality,  I  don't 
know  but  what  you're  right." 

"  I  shows  you  them  assays  of  McPherson's, 
don't  I?"  argued  Mizzou,  "  an'  any  quartz  in 
this  kentry  that  assays  twenty-four  dollars  ain't 
no  ways  cheap." 

This  speech  was  so  significantly  in  line  with 
Bennington's  surmise  that  he  caught  his  breath 
and  drew  back  cautiously  out  of  sight,  but  still 
in  such  a  position  that  he  could  hear  plainly 
every  word  uttered  by  the  group  below.  The 


2i6  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

girl  was  watching  him  with  bright,  interested 
eyes. 

"  Listen  carefully!  "  he  whispered,  bringing 
his  mouth  close  to  her  ear.  "  I  think  there's 
some  sort  of  plot  here." 

She  nodded  ready  comprehension,  and  they 
settled  themselves  to  hear  the  following  con 
versation: 

"  I  saw  the  assay,"  replied  the  stranger's 
voice  to  Mizzou's  last  statement,  "  but  who's 
this  McPherson?  How  do  I  know  the  assays 
are  all  right?" 

"  Why,  he's  that  thar  professer  at  th'  School 
of  Mines,"  expostulated  Mizzou. 

"  Oh,  yes!  "  cried  the  stranger,  as  though 
suddenly  enlightened.  "  If  those  are  his  assays, 
they're  all  right.  Let's  see  them  again." 

There  followed  a  rustling  of  papers. 

"  Well,  I've  looked  over  your  layout,"  went 
on  the  stranger  after  a  moment,  "  and  pretty 
thoroughly  in  the  last  few  days.  I  know  what 
you've  got  here.  Now  what's  your  proposi 
tion?  " 

There  was  a  pause. 

"  I  knows  you  a  good  while,  Slayton " 


THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS  217 

began  Mizzou,  but  was  interrupted  almost  im 
mediately  by  a  third  voice,  that  of  Arthur. 
"  The  point  is  this,"  said  the  latter  sharply, 
"  Davidson  here  is  in  a  position  to  give  you 
possession  of  this  group  o'  claims,  but  he  ain't 
in  a  position  to  appear  in  th'  transaction.  How 
are  you  goin'  to  purtect  him  an'  me  so  we  gets 
something  out  of  it?  " 

"  Wait  a  minute,"  put  in  the  stranger,  "  I 
want  to  ask  a  few  questions  myself.  These 
claims  belong  to  the  Holy  Smoke  Company 
now,  don't  they?  " 

"  Well,  that's  the  idea." 

"  Are  either  of  you  the  agent  of  that  Com 
pany?  " 

"  Not  directly,  perhaps." 

"  Are  you  indirectly?  " 

"  Seems  to  me  you  haven't  got  any  call  t' 
look  into  that,  if  we  guarantee  t'  give  you  good 
title." 

"  How  do  I  know  you  can  give  me  good 
title?  " 

"Ain't  I  tellin' you  so?  " 

"  Yes,  but  why  should  I  believe  you?  " 

"  You  shouldn't,  unless  you've  got  sense 


2l8  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

enough  to  see  that  we  ain't  geitin'  you  'way  up 
here,  an'  we  ain't  living  round  these  parts  a 
couple  of  years  on  a  busted  proposition." 

The  stranger  evidently  debated  this. 

"  How  would  it  be  if  you  took  equal  shares 
with  me  on  the  claims,  your  shares  to  be  paid 
from  the  earnings?  That  would  be  fair  all 
round.  You  would  get  nothing  unless  the  title 
was  good.  I  would  risk  no  more  than  you  did," 
he  suggested. 

"  Isn't  I  tellin'  yo'  I  don't  appear  a  tall  in 
this  yere  transaction?  "  objected  Mizzou. 

The  stranger  laughed  a  little. 

"  I  can  see  through  a  millstone,"  he  said. 
"  Why  don't  you  old  turtlebacks  come  out  of 
your  shells  and  play  square?  You've  got  some 
shady  game  on  here  that  you're  working  under 
hand.  Spin  your  yarn  and  I'll  tell  you  what 
I  think  of  it." 

"  How  do  I  know  you  don't  leave  us  out 
a'ter  we  tells  you,"  objected  Mizzou,  returning 
to  his  original  idea. 

"  You  don't!  "  answered  the  stranger  impa 
tiently,  "you  don't!  But  it  seems  to 
me  if  you  expect  to  get  anything  out  of  a 


THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS  219 

shady  transaction,  you've  got  to  risk  some 
thing." 

"  That's  right,"  put  in  Arthur,  "  that's 
right!  'Nuff  said!  Now,  Slayton,  we'll  agree- 
to  git  you  full  legal  control  of  these  yere  claims 
if  you'll  develop  them  at  your  expense,  an'  gin 
Davidson  and  me  a  third  interest  between  us 
fer  our  influence.  That's  our  proposition,  an' 
that  goes.  If  you  don't  play  squar',  I  knows 
how  t'  make  ye." 

"  Spin  your  yarn,"  repeated  the  stranger 
quietly.  "  I'll  agree  to  give  you  and  Davidson 
a  third  interest,  provided  I  take  hold  of  the  thing 
at  all." 

44  An'  Jack  Slayton,"  put  in  Mizzou  threat 
eningly,  "  if  you  don't  play  us  squar',  I  swar 
I'll  shoot  ye  like  a  dog!  " 

"  Oh,  stow  that,  Davidson,"  rejoined  the 
stranger  in  an  irritated  voice;  "that  rot  don't 
do  any  good.  I  know  you,  and  you  know  mo. 
I  never  went  back  on  a  game  yet,  and  you 
know  it." 

"  I  does  know  it,  Jack!"  came  up  David 
son's  voice  repentantly,  "  but  this  is  a  big  deal, 

an'  y'  can't  be  too  careful!  " 
15 


22O  THE   CLAIM  JUMPERS 

"All  right,  all  right,"  the  stranger  re 
sponded.  "  Now  tell  us  your  scheme.  How 
can  you  get  hold  of  the  property?  " 

"  By  jumping  the  claims,"  replied  Arthur 
calmly.  There  ensued  a  short  pause.  Then: 

"  Don't  be  a  fool,"  exclaimed  Slayton  with 
contempt;  "this  is  no  hold-up  country.  You 
can't  drive  a  man  off  his  property  with  a  gun." 

"  I  knows  that.  These  claims  can  be 
*  jumped  '  quiet  and  legal." 

"  How?  " 

"They  ain't  be'n  a  stroke  of  assessment 
work  done  on  'em  since  we  came.  Th'  Com 
pany's  title's  gone  long  ago.  They  lost  their 
job  last  January.  Them  claims  is  open  to  any 
one  who  cares  to  have  'em." 

The  stranger  uttered  a  long  whistle.  Old 
Mizzou  chuckled  cunningly.  "  I  has  charge  of 
them  claims  from  th'  time  they  quits  work  on 
'em  'till  now.  They  ain't  be'n  a  pick  raised  on 
'em.  Anybody  could  a-jumped  'em  any  time 
since  las'  January." 

"  But  how  about  the  Company? "  asked 
Slayton.  "  How  did  you  fool  them?  " 

"  Oh,    I   sends   'em   bills   fer  work   reg'lar 


THE  CLAIM   JUMPERS  22I 

enough!  And  I  didn't  throw  away  th'  money 
neither! " 

"  Yes,  that'd  be  easy  enough.  But  how 
about  the  people  around  here?  Why  haven't 
they  jumped  the  claims  long  ago?  " 

"  Wall,  I  argues  about  this  a-way.  These 
yere  gents  sees  I  has  charge,  an'  they  says  to 
themselves,  '  Ole  Davidson  takes  care  of  them 
assessment  works  all  right/  an'  so  they  never 
thinks  it's  worth  while  t'  see  whether  it  is  done 
or  not." 

"  You  trusted  to  their  thinking  you  were 
performing  your  duties?  " 

"  Thet's  it." 

"  Well,  it  was  a  pretty  big  risk!  " 

"  Ev'rything  t'  gain  an'  nothin'  t'  lose,** 
quoted  Old  Mizzou  comfortably. 

"  How  about  this  new  man  the  Company  has 
out  here — de  Laney?  Is  he  in  this  deal  too?  " 

"  Oh,  him!  "  said  Davidson  with  vast  con 
tempt.  "  He  don'  know  enough  t'  dodge  a 
brick!  I  tells  him  th'  assessment  work  is  all 
done.  He  believes  it,  an'  never  looks  t'  see. 
I  gets  him  fooled  so  easy  it's  shore  funny." 

"  Hold  on!  "  put  in  Slay  ton  sharply.    "  I'm 


222  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

not  so  sure  you  aren't  liable  there  somewhere. 
Of  course  your  failure  to  do  the  assessment 
work  while  you  were  alone  here  was  negli 
gence,  but  that  is  all.  The  Company  could  fire 
you  for  failing  to  do  your  duty,  but  they 
couldn't  prove  any  fraud  against  you.  But 
when  this  de  Laney  came  along  it  changed 
things." 

"  How  is  that?" 

"  Well,  you  told  him  the  assessment  work 
had  been  done,  in  so  many  words,  didn't  you? 
The  Company  can  prove  that  you  were  using 
your  official  information  to  deceive  him  for  the 
purposes  of  fraud.  In  other  words,  you  were 
an  officer  of  the  Company,  and  you  deceived 
another  officer  in  your  official  capacity.  I  don't 
know  but  you'd  be  liable  to  a  criminal  action." 

"  Not  on  your  tin-type,"  said  Old  Mizzou 
with  confidence. 

"  Have  you  looked  it  up?  " 

"  I  does  better  than  that.  At  that  point  I 
shore  becomes  subtle.  /  resigns  from  th'  Com 
pany!  A'ter  that  I  talks  assessment  work.  I 
tells  him  advice,  jest  as  a  friend.  If  he  believes 
th'  same,  an'  it  ain't  so,  why  thet's  unfort'nit, 


THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS  223 

but  they  can't  do  anythin'  t'  me.  I'm  jest  an 
outsider.  He  is  responsible  to  th'  Company, 
an'  if  he  wants  information,  he  ought  to  go  to 
th'  books,  and  not  to  frien's  who  may  deceive 
him." 

"  Davidson,  you're  a  genius!  "  exclaimed 
the  stranger  heartily. 

"  I  tells  you  I  becomes  subtle,"  acknowl 
edged  the  old  man  with  just  pride.  "  But  now 
you  sees  it  ain't  delikit  that  my  name  appears 
in  th'  case  a  tall.  Folks  is  so  suspicious  these 
yere  days,  that  if  I  has  a  share,  and  Arthur  yere 
has  a  share,  they  says  p'rhaps  we  has  this  yere 
scheme  in  view  right  along.  But  if  Slayton  gets 
them  lapsed  claims  by  hisself,  Slayton  bein'  a 
stranger,  they  thinks  how  fortinit  that  Slayton 
is  t'  git  onto  it,  and  they  puts  pore  Ole  Mizzou 
down  as  becomin'  fergitful  in  his  old  age." 

The  stranger  laughed. 

"  It's  easy,"  he  remarked.  "  We  get  them 
for  nothing,  and  you  can  bet  your  sweet  life 
I'll  push  'em  through  for  all  there  is  in  it.  Why, 
boys,  you're  rich!  You  won't  have  anything 
more  to  do  the  rest  of  your  mortal  days,  unless 
you  want  to." 


224  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

"  I  ain't  seekin'  no  manual  employment/' 
observed  Mizzou. 

"  I'm  willin'  to  quit  work,"  agreed 
Arthur. 

"  Well,  you'll  have  a  chance.  Now  we  bet 
ter  hustle  this  tiling  through  lively.  We've  got 
to  make  our  discoveries  on  the  quiet  so  no  one 
will  get  on  to  us." 

"  It  ain't  goin'  t'  take  us  long  t'  tack  up 
them  notices,  now  't  we've  agreed.  We  kin  do 
th'  most  on  it  this  evenin'.  Jest  lay  low, 
that's  all." 

"  Ain't  de  Laney  going  to  get  onto  us 
sasshaying  off  with  a  lot  of  notices?  " 

"  If  he  does,"  remarked  Old  Mizzou  grimly, 
"  I  knows  a  dark  hole  whar  we  retires  that 
young  man  for  th'  day!  If  it  comes  t'  that, 
though,  you  got  t'  tend  to  it,  Slayton.  I  ain't 
showin'  in  this  deal  y'  know." 

The  stranger  laughed  unpleasantly. 

"  You  show  me  the  hole  and  I'll  take  care 
of  Mr.  man,"  he  agreed.  He  laughed  again. 
"  By  the  way,  it  strikes  me  that  fellow's  going 
to  run  up  against  a  good  deal  of  tribulation 
%e  gets  through." 


THE   CLAIM  JUMPERS 

"  Wall,  thet  thar  Comp'ny  ain't  goin'  to 
raise  his  pay  when  they  finds  it  out,"  agreed 
Mizzou.  "  Thet  Bishop,  he  gets  tolerable  anx 
ious  'bout  them  assessment  works  now,  and 
writes  frequent.  I  got  a  whole  bunch  of  his 
letters  up  t'  camp  that  I  keeps  for  th'  good  of  his 
health.  Ain't  no  wise  healthy  t'  worry  'bout 
business,  you  know." 

"  Wonder  th'  little  idiot  didn't  miss  his 
mail,"  growled  Arthur. 

"  Oh,  I  coaxes  him  on  with  th'  letters  from 
his  mammy  and  pappy.  They's  harmless 
enough." 

The  three  men  fell  into  a  discussion  of  vari 
ous  specimens  of  quartz  which  they  took  from 
their  pockets,  and,  after  what  seemed  to  be 
an  interminable  time,  arose  and  moved  slowly 
down  the  hill. 

The  girl  looked  at  her  companion  with  wide- 
open  eyes.  "Ben!"  she  gasped,  "what  have 
you  done? " 

"  Made  a  fool  of  myself,"  he  responded 
curtly. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  about  it?  " 

"  I  don't  know." 


226  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

He  knit  his  brows  deeply.  She  cast  about 
for  an  expedient. 

"  I  wish  I  knew  more  about  mining!  "  she 
cried.  "  I  know  there  is  some  way  to  get  legal 
possession  of  a  claim  by  patenting  it,  but  I  don't 
know  how  you  do  it." 

He  did  not  reply. 

"  There  must  be  some  way  out  of  this,"  she 
went  on,  all  alert.  "  They  haven't  done  any 
thing  yet.  Why  don't  you  go  down  to  camp 
and  inquire?  " 

"  Every  man  would  be  in  the  hills  in  less 
than  an  hour.  I  couldn't  trust  them,"  he  re 
plied  brusquely. 

"  Oh,  I  know!  "  she  cried  with  relief.  "  You 
must  hunt  up  Jim.  He  knows  all  about  those 
things,  and  you  could  rely  on  him." 

"Jim?    What  Jim?" 

"Jim  Fay.  Oh,  that's  just  it!  Run,  Ben; 
go  at  once;  don't  wait  a  minute!  " 

"  I  want  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  that 
man,"  he  said  deliberately.  "  He  has  insulted 
me  at  every  opportunity.  He  has  treated  me 
in  a  manner  that  was  even  more  than  insulting 
every  time  we  have  met.  If  I  were  dying,  and 


THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS  227 

he  had  but  to  turn  his  head  toward  me  to  save 
me,  I  would  not  ask  him  to  do  so!  " 

"  Oh,  don't  be  foolish,  Ben!"  cried  she, 
wringing  her  hands  in  despair.  "  Don't  let 
your  pride  stand  in  your  way!  Do  you  realize 
the  disgrace  this  will  be  to  you — to  lose  all  these 
rich  claims  just  by  carelessness?  Do  you  realize 
that  it  means  something  to  me,  for  I  have 
been  the  reason  of  that  carelessness.  I  know  it! 
Just  this  once  forget  all  he  has  done  to  you. 
You  can  trust  him.  Don't  be  afraid  of  that. 
Tell  him  that  I  sent  you,  if  you  don't  want  to 

trust  him  on  your  own  account "  she  broke 

off.  "  Where  are  you  going?  "  she  asked  anx 
iously. 

"  To  do  something,"  he  answered,  shutting 
his  teeth  together  with  a  snap. 

"  Will  you  see  Jim?  "  she  begged,  following 
him  to  the  edge  of  the  Rock  as  he  swung  him 
self  down  the  tree. 

"  No!  "  said  he,  without  looking  back. 

After  he  had  disappeared — in  the  direction 
of  the  Holy  Smoke  camp,  as  she  noticed — she 
descended  rapidly  to  the  ground  and  hurried, 
sobbing  excitedly,  away  toward  Spanish  Gulch. 


228  THE   CLAIM  JUMPERS 

She  was  all  alive  with  distress.  She  had  never 
realized  until  the  moment  of  his  failure  how 
much  she  had  loved  this  man.  Near  the  village 
she  paused,  bathed  her  eyes  in  the  brook,  and, 
assuming  an  air  of  deliberation  and  calmness, 
began  making  inquiries  as  to  the  whereabouts 
of  Jim  Fay. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

BENNINGTON    PROVES    GAME 

BENNINGTON  DE  LANEY  sat  on  the  pile  of 
rocks  at  the  entrance  to  the  Holy  Smoke  shaft. 
Across  his  knees  lay  the  thirty-calibre  rifle.  His 
face  was  very  white  and  set.  Perhaps  he  was 
thinking  of  his  return  to  New  York  in  disgrace, 
of  his  interview  with  Bishop,  of  his  inevitable 
meeting  with  a  multitude  of  friends,  who  would 
read  in  the  daily  papers  the  accounts  of  his 
incompetence  —  criminal  incompetence,  they 
would  call  it.  The  shadows  were  beginning  to 
lengthen  across  the  slope  of  the  hill.  Up  the 
gulch  cow  bells  tinkled,  up  the  hill  birds  sang, 
and  through  the  little  hollows  twilight  flowed 
like  a  vapour.  The  wild  roses  on  the  hillside 
were  blooming — late  in  this  high  altitude.  The 
pines  were  singing  their  endless  song.  But 
Bennington  de  Laney  was  looking  upon  none  of 
these  softer  beauties  of  the  Hills.  Rather  he 
watched  intently  the  lower  gulch  with  its  flood- 

22Q 


230  THE  CLAIM   JUMPERS 

wracked,  water  -  twisted  skeleton  laid  bare. 
Could  it  be  that  in  the  destruction  there  figured 
forth  he  caught  the  symbol  of  his  own  condi 
tion?  That  the  dreary  gloom  of  that  ruin  typi 
fied  the  chaos  of  sombre  thoughts  that  occupied 
his  own  remorseful  mind?  If  so,  the  fancy  must 
have  absorbed  him.  The  moments  slipped  by 
one  by  one,  the  shadows  grew  longer,  the  bird 
songs  louder,  and  still  the  figure  with  the  rifle 
sat  motionless,  his  face  white  and  still,  watching 
the  lower  gulch. 

Or  could  it  be  that  Bennington  de  Laney 
waited  for  some  one,  and  that  therefore  his  gaze 
was  so  fixed?  It  would  seem  so.  For  when  the 
beat  of  hoofs  became  audible,  the  white  face 
quickened  into  alertness,  and  the  motionless 
figure  stirred  somewhat. 

The  rider  came  in  sight,  rising  and  falling  in 
a  steady,  unhesitating  lope.  He  swung  rapidly 
to  the  left,  and  ascended  the  knoll.  Opposite 
the  shaft  of  the  Holy  Smoke  lode  he  reined  in 
his  bronco  and  dismounted.  The  rider  was 
Jim  Fay. 

Bennington  de  Laney  did  not  move.  He 
looked  up  at  the  newcomer  with  dull  resigna- 


BENNINGTON    PROVES   GAME  231 

tion.  "  He  takes  it  hard,  poor  fellow!  "  thought 
Fay. 

"  Well,  what's  to  be  done?  "  asked  the  East 
erner  in  a  strained  voice.  "  I  suppose  you  know 
all  about  it,  or  you  wouldn't  be  here." 

"  Yes,  I  know  all  about  it,"  said  Fay  gently. 
"  You  mustn't  take  it  so  hard.  Perhaps  we  can 
do  something.  We'll  be  able  to  save  one  or 
two  claims,  any  way,  if  we're  quick  about  it." 

"  I've  heard  something  about  patenting 
claims,"  went  on  de  Laney  in  the  same  strange, 
dull  tones;  "  could  that  be  done?  " 

"  No.  You  have  to  do  five  hundred  dollars' 
worth  of  work,  and  advertise  for  sixty  days. 
There  isn't  time." 

"  That  settles  it.  I  don't  know  what  we  can 
do  then." 

"  Well,  that  depends.  I've  come  to  help  do 
something.  We've  got  to  get  an  everlasting 
hustle  on  us,  that's  all;  and  I'm  afraid  we  are 
beginning  a  little  behindhand  in  the  race.  You 
ought  to  have  hunted  me  up  at  once." 

"  I  don't  see  what  there  is  to  do,"  repeated 
Bennington  thickly. 

"  Don't  you?    The  assesssment  work  hasn't 


232  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

been  done — that's  the  idea,  isn't  it? — and  so  the 
claims  have  reverted  to  the  Government.  They 
are  therefore  open  to  location,  as  in  the  begin 
ning,  and  that  is  just  what  Davidson  and  that 
crowd  are  going  to  do  to  them.  Well,  they're 
just  as  much  open  to  us.  We'll  just  jump  our 
own  claims! " 

"  What!  "  cried  the  Easterner,  excited. 

"  Well,  relocate  them  ourselves,  if  that  suits 
you  better." 

Bennington's  dull  eyes  began  to  light  up. 

"  So  get  a  move  on  you,"  went  on  Fay; 
"  hustle  out  some  paper  so  we  can  make  loca 
tion  notices.  Under  the  terms  of  a  relocation, 
we  can  use  the  old  stakes  and  '  discovery/  so 
all  we  have  to  do  is  to  tack  up  a  new  notice  all 
round.  That's  the  trouble.  That  gang's  got 
their  notices  all  written,  and  I'm  afraid  they've 
got  ahead  of  us.  Come  on!  " 

Bennington,  who  had  up  to  this  time  re 
mained  seated  on  the  pile  of  stones,  seemed 
filled  with  a  new  and  great  excitement.  He 
tottered  to  his  feet,  throwing  his  hands  aloft. 

"Thank  God!  Thank  God!"  he  cried, 
catching  his  breath  convulsively. 


BENNINGTON   PROVES   GAME  233 

Fay  turned  to  look  at  him  curiously.  "  We 
aren't  that  much  out  of  the  woods,"  he  re 
marked;  "  the  other  gang'll  get  in  their  work, 
don't  you  fret." 

"They  never  will,  they  never  will!"  cried 
the  Easterner  exultantly.  "  They  can't.  We'll 
locate  'em  all!  "  The  tears  welled  over  his  eyes 
and  ran  down  his  cheeks. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Fay,  begin 
ning  to  fear  the  excitement  had  unsettled  his 
companion's  wits. 

"  Because  they're  there!  "  cried  Bennington, 
pointing  to  the  mouth  of  the  shaft  near  which 
he  had  been  sitting.  "  Davidson,  Slayton, 
Arthur — they're  all  there,  and  they  can't  get 
away!  I  didn't  know  what  else  to  do.  I  had  to 
do  something!  " 

Fay  cast  an  understanding  glance  at  the 
young  man's  rifle,  and  sprang  to  the  entrance 
of  the  shaft.  As  though  in  direct  corroboration 
of  his  speech,  Fay  could  perceive,  just  emerging 
from  the  shadow,  the  sinister  figure  of  the  man 
Arthur  creeping  cautiously  up  the  ladder,  evi 
dently  encouraged  to  an  attempt  to  escape  by 
the  sound  of  the  conversation  above.  The 


234  THE   CLAIM  JUMPERS 

Westerner  snatched  his  pistol  from  his  holster 
and  presented  it  down  the  shaft. 

"  Kindly  return!  "  he  commanded  in  a  soft 
voice.  The  upward  motion  of  the  dim  figure 
ceased,  and  in  a  moment  it  had  faded  from  view 
in  the  descent.  Fay  waited  a  moment.  "  In 
five  minutes,"  he  announced  in  louder  tones, 
"  I'm  going  to  let  loose  this  six-shooter  down 
that  shaft.  I  should  advise  you  gentlemen  to 
retire  to  the  tunnel."  He  peered  down  again 
intently.  A  sudden  clatter  and  thud  behind 
him  startled  him.  He  looked  around.  Ben- 
nington  had  fallen  at  full  length  across  the 
stones,  and  his  rifle,  falling,  had  clashed  against 
the  broken  ore. 

Fay,  with  a  slight  shrug  of  contempt  at  such 
womanish  weakness,  ran  to  his  assistance.  He 
straightened  the  Easterner  out  and  placed  his 
folded  coat  under  his  head.  "  He'll  come 
around  in  a  minute,"  he  muttered.  He  glanced 
toward  the  gulch  and  then  back  to  the  shaft. 
"  Can't  leave  that  lay-out,"  he  went  on.  He 
bent  over  the  prostrate  figure  and  began  to 
loosen  the  band  of  his  shirt.  Something  about 
the  boy's  clothing  attracted  his  attention,  so, 


BENNINGTON   PROVES   GAME 


235 


drawing  his  knife,  he  deftly  and  gently  ripped 
away  the  coat  and  shirt.  Then  he  arose  softly 
to  his  feet  and  bared  his  head. 

"  I  apologize  to  you,"  said  he,  addressing 
the  recumbent  form;  "  you  are  game." 

In  the  fleshy  part  of  the  naked  shoulder  was 
a  small  round  hole,  clotted  and  smeared  with 
blood. 

Jim  Fay  stooped  and  examined  the  wound 
closely.  The  bullet  had  entered  near  the  point 
of  the  shoulder,  but  a  little  below,  so  that  it  had 
merely  cut  a  secant  through  the  curve  of  the 
muscle.  If  it  had  struck  a  quarter  of  an  inch 
to  the  left  it  would  have  gouged  a  furrow;  a 
quarter  of  an  inch  beyond  that  would  have 
caused  it  to  miss  entirely.  Fay  saw  that  the 
hurt  itself  was  slight,  and  that  the  Easterner 
had  fainted  more  because  of  loss  of  blood  than 
from  the  shock.  This  determined  to  his  satis 
faction,  he  moved  quickly  to  the  mouth  of  the 
shaft.  "  Way  below!  "  he  cried  in  a  sharp  voice, 
and  discharged  his  revolver  twice  down  the 
opening.  Then  he  stole  noiselessly  away,  and 
ran  at  speed  to  the  kitchen  of  the  shack,  whence 

he  immediately  returned  with  a  pail  of  water 
16 


236  THE   CLAIM  JUMPERS 

and  a  number  of  towels.  He  set  these  down, 
and  again  peered  down  the  shaft.  "  Way  be 
low!  "  he  repeated,  and  dropped  down  a  siz 
able  chunk  of  ore.  Apparently  satisfied  that 
the  prisoners  were  well  warned,  he  gave  his 
whole  attention  to  his  patient. 

He  washed  the  wound  carefully.  Then  he 
made  a  compress  of  one  of  the  towels,  and 
bound  it  with  the  other  two.  Looking  up,  he 
discovered  Bennington  watching  him  intently. 

"  It's  all  right!  "  he  assured  the  latter  in  an 
swer  to  the  question  in  his  eyes.  "  Nothing  but 
a  scratch.  Lie  still  a  minute  till  I  get  this 
fastened,  and  you  can  sit  up  and  watch  the  rat 
hole  while  I  get  you  some  clothes." 

In  another  moment  or  so  the  young  man 
was  propped  up  against  an  empty  ore  "  bucket," 
his  shoulder  bound,  and  his  hand  slung  com 
fortably  in  a  sling  from  his  neck. 

"  There  you  are,"  said  Jim  cheerily.  "  Now 
you  take  my  six-shooter  and  watch  that  aggre 
gation  till  I  get  back.  They  won't  come  out 
any,  but  you  may  as  well  be  sure." 

He  handed  Bennington  his  revolver,  and 
moved  off  in  the  direction  of  the  cabin,  whis- 


BENNINGTON    PROVES   GAME 


237 


tling  cheerfully.  The  young  man  looked  after 
him  thoughtfully.  Nothing  could  have  been 
more  considerate  than  the  Westerner's  manner, 
nothing  could  have  been  kinder  than  his  prompt 
action — Bennington  saw  that  his  pony,  now 
cropping  the  brush  near  at  hand,  was  black 
with  sweat — nothing  could  have  been  more 
straightforward  than  his  assistance  in  the  matter 
of  the  claims.  And  yet  Bennington  de  Laney 
was  not  satisfied.  He  felt  he  owed  the  sudden 
change  of  front  to  a  word  spoken  in  his  behalf 
by  the  girl.  This  was  a  strange  influence  she 
possessed,  thus  to  alter  a  man's  attitude  entirely 
by  the  mere  voicing  of  a  wish. 

The  Westerner  returned  carrying  a  loose 
shirt  and  a  coat,  which  he  drew  entire  over  the 
injured  shoulder,  leaving  one  sleeve  empty. 

"  I  guess  that  fixes  you,"  said  he  with  satis 
faction. 

"  Look  here,"  put  in  Bennington  suddenly, 
"  you've  been  mighty  good  to  me  in  all  this.  If 
you  hadn't  come  along  as  you  did,  these  fellows 
would  have  nabbed  me  sooner  or  later,  and 
probably  I'd  have  lost  the  claims  any  way.  I 
feel  that  I  owe  you  a  lot.  But  I  want  you  to 


238  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

know  before  you  go  any  further  that  that  don't 
square  us.  You've  had  it  in  for  me  ever  since 
I  came  out  here,  and  you've  made  it  mighty 
unpleasant  for  me.  I  can't  forget  that  all  at 
once.  I  want  to  tell  you  plainly  that,  although 
I  am  grateful  enough,  I  know  just  why  you 
have  done  all  this.  It  is  because  she  asked  you 
to.  And  knowing  that, I  can't  accept  what  you 
do  for  me  as  from  a  friend,  for  I  don't  feel 
friendly  toward  you  in  the  least."  His  face 
flushed  painfully.  "  I'm  not  trying  to  insult 
you  or  be  boorish,"  he  said;  "  I  just  want  you 
to  understand  how  I  feel  about  it.  And  now 
that  you  know,  I  suppose  you'd  better  let  the 
matter  go,  although  I'm  much  obliged  to  you 
for  fixing  me  up." 

He  glanced  at  his  shoulder. 

Fay  listened  to  this  speech  quietly  and  with 
patience.  "  What  do  you  intend  to  do?  "  he 
asked,  when  the  other  had  quite  finished. 

"  I  don't  know  yet.  If  you'll  say  nothing 
down  below — and  I'm  sure  you  will  not — I'll 
contrive  some  way  of  keeping  this  procession 
down  the  hole,  and  of  feeding  them,  and  then 
I'll  relocate  the  claims  myself." 


BENNINGTON   PROVES   GAME  239 

"With  one  arm?" 

"Yes,  with  one  arm!"  cried  Bennington 
fiercely;  "  with  no  arms  at  all,  if  need  be!  "  he 
broke  off  suddenly,  with  the  New  Yorker's  in 
grained  instinct  of  repression.  "  I  beg  your 
pardon.  I  mean  I'll  do  as  well  as  I  can,  of 
course." 

"  How  about  the  woman — Arthur's  wife? 
She'll  give  you  trouble." 

"  She  has  locked  herself  in  her  cabin  already. 
I  will  assist  her  to  continue  the  imprisonment." 

Fay  laughed  outright.  "  And  you  expect, 
with  one  arm  and  wounded,  to  feed  four  people, 
keep  them  in  confinement,  and  at  the  same  time 
to  relocate  eighteen  claims  lying  scattered  all 
over  the  hills!  Well,  you're  optimistic,  to  say 
the  least." 

"  I'll  do  the  best  I  can,"  repeated  Benning 
ton  doggedly. 

"  And  you  won't  ask  help  of  a  friend  ready 
to  give  it?" 

"  Not  as  a  friend." 

"  Well,"  Fay  chuckled,  apparently  not  dis 
pleased,  "  you're  an  obstinate  young  man,  or 
rather  a  pig-headed  young  man,  but  I  don* 


240  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

know  as  that  counts  against  you.  I'll  help 
you  out,  any  way — if  not  as  a  friend,  then  as  an 
enemy.  You  see,  I  have  my  marching  orders 
from  some  one  else,  and  you  haven't  anything 
to  do  with  it." 

Bennington  bowed  coldly,  but  his  immense 
relief  flickered  into  his  face  in  spite  of  himself. 
"  What  should  we  do  first?  "  he  asked  formally. 

"  Sit  here  and  wait  for  the  kids,"  re 
sponded  Jim. 

"  Who  are  the  kids?  " 

"  Friends  of  mine — trustworthy." 

Jim  rearranged  Bennington's  coverings  and 
lit  a  pipe.  "  Tell  us  about  it,"  said  he. 

"  There  isn't  much  to  tell.  I  knew  I  had 
to  do  something,  so  I  just  held  them  up  and 
made  them  get  down  the  shaft.  I  didn't  know 
what  I  was  going  to  do  next,  but  I  was  glad 
to  have  them  out  of  the  way  to  get  time  to 
think." 

"  Who  plugged  you?  "  inquired  Fay,  mo 
tioning  with  the  mouthpiece  of  his  pipe  toward 
the  wounded  shoulder. 

"  That  was  Arthur.  He  had  a  little  gun  in 
his  coat  pocket  and  he  shot  from  inside  the 


BENNINGTON  PROVES  GAME      241 

pocket.  I'd  made  them  drop  all  the  guns  they 
had,  I  thought." 

"  Did  you  take  a  crack  at  him  then?  "  asked 
Fay,  interested. 

"  Oh,  no.  I  just  covered  him  and  made  him 
shell  out.  As  a  matter  of  fact  I  don't  believe 
any  one  of  them  knew  I  was  hit." 

Fay  smoked  on  in  silence,  glancing  from 
time  to  time  with  satisfaction  at  the  youth 
opposite.  During  the  passage  of  these  events 
the  day  had  not  far  advanced.  The  shadow  of 
Harney  had  not  yet  reached  out  to  the  edge  of 
the  hills. 

"  Hullo!    The  kids!  "  said  Fay  suddenly. 

Two  pedestrians  emerged  from  the  lower 
gulch  and  bent  their  steps  toward  the  camp. 
As  they  came  nearer,  Bennington,  with  a  gasp 
of  surprise,  recognised  the  Leslies. 

The  sprightly  youths  were  dressed  just 
alike,  in  knickerbockers  and  Norfolk  jackets  of 
dark  brown  plaid,  and  small  college  caps  to 
match — an  outfit  which  Bennington  had  always 
believed  would  attract  too  vivid  attention  in 
this  country.  As  they  came  nearer  he  saw  that 
the  jackets  were  fitted  with  pockets  of  great 


242  THE  CLAIM   JUMPERS 

size.  In  the  pockets  were  sketch  books  and 
bulging  articles.  They  caught  sight  of  the  two 
figures  on  the  ore  heap  simultaneously. 

"  Behold  our  attentive  host!  "  cried  Jeems. 
"  He  is  now  in  the  act  of  receiving  us  with  all 
honour!  " 

Bennington's  face  fairly  shone  with  pleasure 
at  the  encounter.  "  Hullo  fellows!  Hullo 
there!"  he  cried  out  delightedly  again  and 
again,  and  rose  slowly  to  his  feet.  This  dis 
closed  the  fact  of  his  injury,  and  the  brothers 
ran  forward,  with  real  sympathy  and  concern 
expressed  on  their  lively  countenances.  There 
ensued  a  rapid  fire  of  questions  and  answers. 
The  Leslies  proved  to  be  already  familiar  with 
the  details  of  the  attempt  to  jump  the  claims, 
and  understood  at  once  Fay's  brief  account  of 
the  present  situation,  over  which  they  rejoiced 
in  the  well-known  Leslie  fashion.  They  ex 
ploded  in  genuine  admiration  of  Bennington's 
adventure,  and  praised  that  young  man  enthusi 
astically.  Bennington  could  feel,  even  before 
this,  that  he  stood  on  a  different  footing  than 
formerly  with  these  self-reliant  young  men. 
They  treated  him  as  familiarly  as  ever,  but  with 


BENNINGTON    PROVES   GAME  243 

a  new  respect.  The  truth  is,  their  astuteness 
in  reading  character,  which  is  as  essentially  an 
attribute  of  the  artistic  temperament  in  black 
and  white  as  in  words  and  phrases,  had  shown 
them  already  that  their  old  acquaintance  had 
grown  from  boy  to  man  since  last  they  had 
met.  They  knew  this  even  before  they  learned 
of  its  manifestation.  So  astounding  was  the 
change  that  they  gave  it  credit,  perhaps,  for 
being  more  thorough  than  it  was.  After  the 
situation  had  been  made  plain,  Bennington  re 
verted  to  the  unexpectedness  of  their  appear 
ance. 

"  But  you  haven't  told  me  yet  how  you 
happen  to  be  here,"  he  suggested.  "  I'd  as  soon 
have  expected  to  see  Ethel  Henry  coming  up 
the  gulch!" 

"  Didn't  you  get  our  letters?  "  cried  Bert  in 
astonishment. 

"  No,  I  haven't  received  any  letters.  Did 
you  write?  " 

"  Did  we  write!  Well,  I  should  think  so! 
We  wrote  three  times,  telling  you  we  were  com 
ing  and  when  to  expect  us.  Jeems  and  I  won 
dered  why  you  didn't  meet  us.  That  explains 


244  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

it.  Seems  funny  you  didn't  get  any  of  those 
letters!" 

"  No,  I  don't  believe  it  is  so  funny  after  all," 
responded  Bennington,  who  had  been  thinking 
it  over.  "  I  remember  now  that  Davidson  told 
the  others  he  had  been  intercepting  my  letters 
from  the  Company,  and  I  suppose  he  got  yours 
too." 

"  That's  it,  of  course.  I'll  have  to  interview 
that  Davidson  later.  Well,  we  used  to  train 
around  here  off  and  on,  as  I  told  you  once,  and 
this  year  Jeems  and  I  thought  we'd  do  our 
summer  sketching  here,  and  sort  of  revive  old 
times.  So  we  packed  up  and  came." 

"  I'm  mighty  glad  you  came,  anyway,"  re 
plied  Bennington  fervently. 

"  So'm  I.  We're  just  in  time  to  help  foil 
the  villain.  As  foilers  Jeems  and  I  are  an  artistic 
success.  We  have  studied  foiling  under  the 
best  masters  in  the  Bowery  and  Sixth  Avenue 
theatres." 

"  Where's  Bill?  "  asked  Jim  suddenly. 

"  Will  be  around  in  the  morning.  You're 
to  report  progress  at  once.  Didn't  dare  to  come 
up  until  after  the  row.  Dreadful  anxious 


BENNINGTON    PROVES   GAME  245 

though.  Would  have  come  if  Jeems  and  I 
kadn't  forbidden  it." 

Bennington  wondered  vaguely  who  Bill 
might  be,  but  he  was  beginning  to  feel  a  little 
tired  from  the  excitement  and  his  wound,  so 
he  said  nothing. 

"  The  next  thing  is  grub,"  remarked  Fay, 
rising  and  gathering  his  pony's  reins.  "  I'll 
mosey  up  to  the  shack  and  see  about  supper. 
You  fellows  can  sit  around  and  talk  until  I  get 
organized." 

He  turned  to  move  away,  leading  his  horse. 

"  Hold  on  a  minute,  Jim,"  called  Bert. 
''  You  might  lend  me  your  bronc,  and  I'll 
lope  down  and  set  Bill's  mind  easy.  It  won't 
take  long." 

"Good  scheme!"  approved  Jim  heartily. 
"  That's  thoughtful  of  you,  Bertie!  " 

He  dropped  the  reins  where  he  stood,  and 
the  pony,  with  the  usual  well-trained  Western 
docility,  hung  his  head  and  halted.  Bert  arose 
and  looked  down  the  shaft. 

"  Supper  will  be  served  shortly,  gentlemen," 
he  observed  suavely.  He  turned  toward  the 
pony. 


24$  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

"  Bert,"  called  Bennington  in  a  different 
voice,  "  did  you  say  you  were  going  down  the 
gAiSch?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Do  you  want  to  do  something  for  me?  " 

"  Why,  surely.    What  is  it?  " 

"  Would  you  just  as  soon  stop  at  the  Law- 
tons*  and  tell  Miss  Lawton  for  me  that  it's  all 
right!  You'll  find  the  Lawton  house " 

"  Yes,  I  know  where  the  Lawton  house 
is,"  interrupted  Bert,  "  but  Miss  Lawton,  you 
said?" 

"  Don't  you  remember,  Bert,"  put  in  James, 
"  there  is  a  kid  there — Maude,  or  something  of 
that  sort?" 

"  No,  no,  not  Maude,"  persisted  Benning 
ton,  still  more  bashfully.  "  I  mean  Miss  Law- 
ton,  the  young  lady." 

He  felt  that  both  the  youths  were  looking 
keenly  at  him  with  dawning  wonder  and  de 
light.  "  Hold  on,  Bert,"  interposed  James,  as 
the  other  was  about  to  exclaim,  "  do  you 
mean,  Ben,  the  one  you've  been  giving  such  a 
rush  for  the  last  two  months?  " 

"  Miss  Lawton  and  I  are  very  good  friends," 


BENNINGTON  PROVES  GAME      247 

replied  Bennington  with  dignity,  wondering 
whence  James  had  his  information. 

Bert  drew  in  his  breath  sharply,  and  opened 
his  mouth  to  speak. 

"  Hold  on,  Bert,"  interposed  James  again. 
"  There  are  possibilities  in  this.  Don't  destroy 
artistic  development  by  undue  haste.  What  did 
you  call  the  young  lady,  Ben?  " 

"  Miss  Lawton,  of  course!  " 

"  Daughter  of  Bill  Lawton?  " 

"  Why.,  yes." 

"  Oh,  my  eye!  "  ejaculated  James. 

"  And  you  have  eyes  in  your  head!  "  he  cried 
after  a  moment.  "  You  have  ears  in  your  head! 
Blamed  if  you  haven't  everything  in  your  head 
but  brains!  She's  a  good  one!  I  didn't  appre 
ciate  the  subtlety  of  that  woman  before.  Ben, 
you  everlasting  idiot,  do  you  mean  to  tell  me 
that  you've  seen  that  girl  every  day  for  the  last 
two  months,  and  don't  know  yet  that  she's  too 
good  to  belong  to  Bill  Lawton?  " 

Bert  began  to  laugh  hysterically. 

"  What  do  you  mean!  "  cried  Bennington. 

"What  I  say.  She  isn't  Bill  Lawton's 
daughter.  Her  name  isn't  Lawton  at  all.  O 


248  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

glory!  He  don't  even  know  her  namet " 
James  in  his  turn  went  into  a  fit  of  laughing. 
In  uncontrollable  excitement  Bennington 
seized  him  with  his  sound  hand. 

"  What  is  it?  Tell  me!  What  is  her  name, 
then?  " 

"  O  Lord!  Don't  squeeze  so!  I'll  tell  you! 
Letup!" 

James  dashed  the  back  of  his  hand  across  his 
eyes. 

"  What  is  her  name?  "  repeated  Bennington 
fiercely. 

"Wilhelmina  Fay.  We  call  her  Bill  for 
short." 

"  And  Jim  Fay?  " 

"  Is  her  brother." 

"  And  the  Lawtons?  " 

"  They  board  there." 

Across  Bennington's  mind  flashed  vaguely 
a  suspicion  that  turned  him  faint  with  morti 
fication. 

"  Who  is  this  Jim  Fay?  "  he  asked. 

"  He's  Jim  Fay — James  Leicester  Fay,  of 
Boston." 

"  Not " 


BENNINGTON    PROVES   GAME 


249 


"  Yes,  exactly.    The  Boston  Fays." 
Bert  swung  himself  into  the  saddle.    "  Bet 
ter  not  say  anything  to  Bill  about  the  young 
'un's    shoulder/'    called    after    him    the    ever- 
thoughtful  James. 


CHAPTER  XX 

MASKS    OFF 

Now  that  it  was  all  explained,  it  seemed  to 
Bennington  de  Laney  to  be  ridiculously  simple. 
He  wondered  how  he  could  have  been  so  blind. 
For  the  moment,  however,  all  other  emotions 
were  swallowed  up  in  intense  mortification  over 
the  density  he  had  displayed,  and  the  ridiculous 
light  in  which  he  must  have  appeared  to  all  the 
actors  in  the  comedy.  His  companion  per 
ceived  this,  and  kindly  hastened  to  relieve  it. 

"  You're  wondering  how  it  all  happened," 
said  he,  "  but  you  don't  want  to  ask  about  it. 
I'm  going  to  tell  you  the  story  of  your  life. 
You  see,  Bert  and  I  knew  the  Fays  very  well  in 
Boston,  and  we  knew  also  that  they  were  out 
here  in  the  Hills.  That's  what  tickled  us  so 
when  you  said  you  were  coming  out  to  this  very 
place.  You  know  yourself,  Ben,  that  you  were 
pretty  green  when  you  were  in  New  York — you 

must  know  it,  because  you  have  got  over  it  so 
2  so 


MASKS  OFF  251 

nicely  since — and  it  struck  us,  after  you  talked 
so  much  about  the  '  Wild  West/  that  it  would 
be  a  shame  if  you  didn't  get  some  of  it.  So  we 
wrote  Jim  that  you  were  coming,  and  to  see 
to  it  that  you  had  a  time." 

Jim  chuckled  a  little.  "  From  his  letters,  I 
guess  you  had  it.  He  wrote  about  that  horse 
he  sprung  on  you,  and  the  time  they  lynched 
you,  and  all  the  rest  of  it,  and  we  thought  we 
had  done  pretty  well,  especially  since  Jim  wrote 
he  thought  you  weren't  half  bad,  and  had  come 
through  in  good  shape.  He  wrote,  too,  that 
you  had  run  against  Bill,  and  that  Bill  was  fool 
ing  you  up  in  some  way — way  unspecified.  He 
seemed  to  be  a  little  afraid  that  Bill  was  trifling 
with  your  young  affections — how  is  it  Ben, 
anyway? — but  he  said  that  Bill  was  very 
haughty  on  the  subject,  and  as  he'd  never  been 
able  to  do  anything  with  her  before,  he  didn't 
believe  he'd  have  much  success  if  he  should  try 
now.  I  suggested  that  Bill  might  get  in  a  little 
deep  herself,"  went  on  James,  watching  his 
listener's  face  keenly,  "but  Bert  seemed  inclined 
to  the  opinion  that  any  one  as  experienced  as 
Bill  was  perfectly  able  to  take  care  of  herself 


252  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

anywhere.  She's  a  mighty  fine  girl,  Ben,  old 
man,"  suddenly  concluded  this  startling  youth, 
holding  out  his  hand,  "  and  I  wish  you  every 
success  in  the  world  in  getting  her! " 

"  Thank  you,  Jeems,"  replied  Bennington 
simply,  without  attempting  to  deny  the  state 
of  affairs.  "  I'm  sure  I'm  glad  of  your  good 
wishes,  but  I'm  afraid  I  haven't  any  show  now." 
He  sighed  deeply. 

"  I'll  give  an  opinion  on  that  after  I  see 
Bill  again,"  observed  the  artist  sagely. 

"  It  always  struck  me  as  being  queer  that 
two  of  the  most  refined  people  about  here 
should  happen  to  be  living  in  the  same  house," 
commented  Bennington,  only  just  aware  that  it 
had  so  struck  him. 

"Did  it,  indeed?"  said  Leslie  drolly. 
"  You're  just  bursting  with  sagacity  now,  aren't 
you?  And  your  Sherlock-Holmes  intellect  is 
seething  with  conjecture.  The  lover's  soul  is 
far  above  the  sordid  earthly  considerations 
which  interest  us  ordinary  mortals,  but  I'll  bet 
a  hat  you  are  wondering  how  it  comes  that  a 
Boston  girl  is  out  here  without  any  more  re 
straint  on  her  actions  than  a  careless  brother 


MASKS  OFF  253 

who  doesn't  bother  himself,  and  why  she's  out 
here  at  all,  and  a  few  things  like  that. 
'Fess  up." 

"  Well,"  acknowledged  Bennington  a  trifle 
reluctantly,  "  of  course  it  is  a  little  out  of  the 
ordinary,  but  then  it's  all  right,  somehow,  I'll 
swear." 

"  All  right!  Of  course  it's  all  right!  They 
haven't  any  father  or  mother,  you  know,  and 
they  are  independent  of  action,  as  you've  no 
doubt  noticed.  Bill  kept  house  for  Jim  for 
some  time  —  and  they  used  to  keep  a  great 
house,  I  tell  you,"  said  James,  smacking  his  lips 
in  recollection.  "  Bert  and  I  used  to  visit  there 
a  good  deal.  That's  why  they  call  me  Jeems — 
to  distinguish  me  from  Jim.  Then  Jim  got  tired 
of  doing  nothing — they  possess  everlasting 
rocks — you  know  their  lamented  dad  was  a  sort 
of  amateur  Crcesus — and  he  decided  to  monkey 
with  mines.  Bert  and  I  were  here  one  summer, 
so  Bill  and  Jim  just  pulled  up  stakes  and  came 
along  too.  They  have  been  here  ever  since. 
They're  both  true  sports  and  like  the  life,  and 
all  that;  and,  besides,  Jim  has  kept  busy  mon 
keying  with  mining  speculation.  They're  the 


254  THE  CLAIM  JUMPERS 

salt  of  the  earth,  that  pair,  if  they  do  worry  poor 
old  Boston  to  death  with  their  ways  of  doing 
things.  That's  one  reason  I  like  'em  so  much. 
Society  has  fits  over  their  doings,  but  it  can't 
get  along  without  them." 

"  The  Fays  are  a  pretty  good  family,  aren't 
they?  "  inquired  Bennington.  He  was  irresist 
ibly  impelled  to  ask  this  question. 

"  Best  going.  Mayflower,  William  the  Con 
queror,  and  all  that  rot.  You  must  know  of  the 
Boston  Fays." 

"  I  do.  That  is,  I've  heard  of  them;  but  I 
didn't  know  whether  they  were  the  same." 

Jeems  perceived  that  the  topic  interested 
the  young  fellow,  so  he  descanted  at  length  con 
cerning  the  Fays,  their  belongings,  and  their 
doings.  Time  passed  rapidly.  Bennington  was 
surprised  to  see  Jim  coming  down  to  them 
through  the  afterglow  of  sunset  announcing 
vociferously  that  the  meal  was  at  last  prepared. 

"  I've  fed  the  old  lady,"  he  announced,  "  and 
unlocked  her.  She  doesn't  know  what's  up 
anyway.  She  just  sits  there  like  a  graven  image, 
scared  to  death.  She  doesn't  know  a  relocation 
from  a  telegraph  pole.  I  told  her  to  get  a  move 


MASKS   OFF  255 

on  her  and  fix  us  up  some  bunks,  and  I  guess 
she's  at  it  now." 

They  consulted  as  to  the  best  means  of 
guarding  the  prisoners.  It  was  finally  agreed 
that  Leslie  should  stand  sentinel  until  the  others 
had  finished  supper. 

"  I  want  to  watch  the  effect  of  this  light  on 
the  hills,"  he  announced  positively,  "  and 
I'm  not  hungry,  and  Jim  ought  to  cool  off 
before  coming  out  into  the  air,  and  Ben's 
shoulder  ought  to  be  taken  care  of.  Get  along 
with  ye!  " 

Bennington  accompanied  Jim  to  the  meal 
very  cheerfully.  The  facts  as  to  the  latter's 
persecutions  remained  the  same,  but  in  some 
way  they  did  not  hold  the  same  proportions  as 
heretofore.  The  mere  item  that  Jim  Fay  was 
Mary's  brother,  instead  of  her  lover,  made  all 
the  difference  in  the  world.  He  chattered  in 
a  lively  fashion  concerning  the  method  of  work 
to  be  adopted.  Suddenly  he  pulled  himself  up 
short. 

"  I  think  I  must  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said. 
"  I  heard  about  it  all  from  Jim  Leslie.  I  have 
been  very  green,  and  you  were  quite  right.  If 


256  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

you  still  want  to  do  so,  let's  go  into  this  to 
gether  as  friends." 

"  No  pardon  coming  to  me,"  responded  Fay 
heartily.  "  I've  been  a  little  tough  on  you  occa 
sionally,  that  I'll  admit,  and  if  I've  done  too 
much,  I'm  sure  I  beg  your  pardon.  I  saw  you 
had  the  right  stuff  in  you  that  day  when  you 
stuck  to  the  horse  until  you  rode  him,  and  I've 
always  liked  you  first-rate  since  then.  And  I 
wouldn't  worry  about  this  last  matter.  You 
were  green  to  the  country,  and  were  put  down 
here  without  definite  instructions.  You  trusted 
Davidson,  of  course,  and  got  fooled  in  it;  but 
then  you  just  followed  Bishop's  lead  in  that. 
He'd  been  trusting  Davidson  before  you  got 
here,  and  if  he  hadn't  trusted  him  right  along, 
you  can  bet  you'd  have  had  your  directions  from 
A  to  Z.  He  was  as  much  to  blame  as  you  were, 
and  you'll  find  that  he  knows  it." 

"  I'm  afraid  you  can't  make  me  feel  any 
better  about  that,"  objected  Bennington,  shak 
ing  his  head  despondently. 

"  Well,  you'll  feel  better  after  a  time,  and 
anyway  there's  no  actual  harm  done." 

At  this  moment  Bert  Leslie  entered. 


MASKS   OFF  257 

"  Bill's  tickled  to  death,"  he  announced. 
"  She  says  she's  coming  up  first  thing  in  the 
morning.  She  wanted  to  come  right  off  and 
cook  supper,  but  I  wouldn't  let  her.  She 
couldn't  very  well  stay  here  all  night,  and  it's 
pretty  late  now.  What  you  got  here?  Pork? 
Coffee?  Murphies?  " 

He  sat  down  and  began  to  eat  hungrily. 
Jim  arose  to  relieve  the  sentinel  at  the  mouth 
of  the  shaft,  at  the  same  time  advising  de  Laney 
to  go  to  bed  as  soon  as  possible. 

"You're  tired,"  he  said,  "and  need  rest. 
Wet  that  compress  well  with  Pond's  Extract, 
and  we'll  dress  it  again  in  the  morning." 

In  the  kitchen  he  found  the  strange  sombre 
woman  sitting  bolt  upright  in  silence,  her  arms 
folded  rigidly  across  her  flat  bosom.  She 
looked  straight  in  front  of  her,  and  rocked 
slowly  to  and  fro  on  her  chair. 

"  You  mustn't  worry,  Mrs.  Arthur,"  con 
soled  Fay  kindly,  pausing  for  a  moment. 
"  There  isn't  going  to  be  any  trouble.  It's  just 
a  little  matter  of  mining  law.  We'll  have  to 
keep  your  husband  locked  up  for  a  few  days,  but 
he  won't  be  harmed." 


258  THE  CLAIM  JUMPERS 

The  woman  made  no  reply.  Fay  looked  at 
her  sharply  again,  and  passed  out. 

"  Jeems,"  he  directed  that  individual  at  the 
mouth  of  the  shaft,  "  go  get  your  grub.  Send 
the  kid  to  bed  right  off,  and  then  you  and 
Bert  come  down  here  and  we'll  fix  up  these 
prairie  dogs  of  ours  down  the  hole." 

Jeems  and  his  brother  therefore  helped  the 
wounded  hero  to  bed,  and  left  him  to  a  much- 
needed  slumber;  after  which  they  returned  to 
the  spot  of  light  in  the  darkness  which  marked 
the  glow  of  Fay's  pipe.  That  capable  individual 
issued  directions.  First  of  all  they  lowered,  by 
means  of  a  light  cord,  food  and  water  to  their 
prisoners.  The  latter  maintained  a  sullen 
silence,  and  it  was  only  by  the  lightening  of 
the  burden  at  the  end  of  the  line  that  those 
above  knew  their  provisions  had  been  appro 
priated.  Then  followed  blankets.  The  Leslies 
were  strongly  in  favour  of  as  uncomfortable  a 
confinement  as  possible,  and  so  disapproved  of 
blankets,  but  Fay  insisted.  After  that  the 
brothers  manned  the  windlass  and  let  Jim  down 
in  a  bowline  about  twenty  feet,  while  he  de 
tached  and  removed  two  lengths  of  the  shaft 


MASKS  OFF  259 

ladder.  This  left  no  means  of  ascent,  as  the 
walls  of  the  shaft  were  smoothly  timbered;  but, 
to  make  matters  sure,  they  covered  the  mouth 
with  inch  boards  on  which  they  piled  large 
chunks  of  ore. 

"  You  don't  suppose  they'll  smother?  "  sug 
gested  Bert. 

"Not  much!  There's  only  three  of  them,and 
often  men  drilling  will  stay  down  ten  or  twelve 
hours  at  a  time  without  using  up  the  air." 

"Sweet  dreams,  gentlemen!"  called  the 
irrepressible  Jeems  in  farewell. 

"  There's  one  other  thing,"  said  Jim,  "  and 
then  we  can  crawl  in." 

He  approached  the  cabin  in  which  Arthur 
and  his  wife  were  accustomed  to  sleep,  and  lis 
tened  until  he  had  satisfied  himself  that  Mrs. 
Arthur  was  inside.  Then  he  softly  locked  the 
door,  the  key  of  which  he  had  appropriated  im 
mediately  after  supper,  and  propped  shut  the 
heavy  wooden  shutter  of  the  window. 

"  No  dramatic  escapes  in  ours,  thank  you!  " 
he  muttered.  He  drew  back  and  surveyed  his 
work  with  satisfaction.  "  Come  on,  boys,  let's 
turn  in.  To-morrow  we  slave." 


CHAPTER  XXI 

THE    LAND    OF   VISIONS 

ALTHOUGH  he  had  retired  so  early,  and  in 
so  exhausted  a  condition,  Bennington  de  Laney 
could  not  sleep.  He  had  taken  a  slight  fever, 
and  the  wound  in  his  shoulder  was  stiff  and 
painful.  For  hours  on  end  he  lay  flat  on  his 
back,  staring  at  the  dim  illuminations  of  the 
windows  and  listening  to  the  faint  out-of-door 
noises  or  the  sharper  borings  of  insects  in  the 
logs  of  the  structure.  His  mind  was  not  active. 
He  lay  in  a  semi-torpor,  whose  most  vivid  con 
sciousness  was  that  of  mental  discomfort  and 
the  interminability  of  time. 

The  events  of  the  day  rose  up  before  him, 
but  he  seemed  to  loathe  them  merely  because 
they  had  been  of  so  active  a  character,  and  now 
he  could  not  bear  to  have  his  brain  teased  even 
with  their  impalpable  shadow. 

Strangely  enough,  this  altitude  seemed  to 

create  a  certain  dead  polarity  between  him  and 
260 


THE    LAND  OF   VISIONS  26l 

them.  They  lay  sullenly  outside  his  brain,  re 
pelled  by  this  dead  polarity,  and  he  looked  at 
them  languidly,  against  the  dim  illumination  of 
the  window,  with  a  dull  joy  that  they  could  not 
come  near  him  and  enter  the  realm  of  his 
thoughts.  All  this  was  the  fever. 

In  a  little  time  these  events  became  endowed 
with  more  palpable  bodies  which  moved.  The 
square  of  semilucent  window  faded  into  some 
thing  indescribable,  and  that  into  something 
indescribable,  and  that  into  something  else,  still 
indescribable. 

They  moved  swiftly,  and  things  happened. 
He  found  himself  suddenly  in  a  long  gallery,  half 
in  the  dusk,  half  in  the  lamplight,  pacing  slowly 
back  and  forth,  waiting  for  something,  he  knew 
not  what.  To  him  came  a  bustling  motherly 
old  woman  with  a  maid's  cap  on,  who  said, 
"  Sure,  Master  Ben,  the  moon  is  shining,  and, 
let  me  tell  ye,  at  the  end  of  the  hall  is  a  balcony 
of  iron,  and  Miss  Mary  will  be  glad  you  know 
that  same."  And  at  that  he  seemed  to  himself 
to  be  hunting  for  a  coin  with  which  to  tip  her. 
He  discovered  it  turned  to  lead  between  his 
fingers,  whereupon  the  old  woman  laughed 


262  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

shrilly  and  disappeared,  and  he  found  himself 
alone  on  the  prairie  at  midnight. 

His  mind  seemed  to  be  filled  with  great 
thoughts  which  would  make  him  famous.  Over 
and  over  again  he  said  to  himself:  "  The  rain 
pours  and  the  people  down  below  chuckle  as 
they  move  about  each  under  his  little  umbrella 
of  self-conceit.  They  look  up  to  the  mountain, 
saying, '  The  fool!  Why  looks  he  so  high?  He 
is  lost  in  the  mists  up  there,  and  he  might  be 
safe  and  dry  with  us/  But  the  mountain  has 
over  him  the  arch  of  the  universe,  and  sleeps 
calmly  in  the  sun  of  truth.  Little  recks  he  of 
the  clouds  below,  and  knows  not  at  all  the  little 
self-satisfied  fools  who  pity  him,"  and  he 
thought  this  was  the  sum  of  all  wisdom,  and 
that  with  it  would  come  immortality. 

Then  a  bell  began  to  boom,  a  deep-toned 
bell,  whose  tolling  was  inexpressibly  solemn, 
and  poured  into  his  heart  a  sadness  too  deep 
for  sorrow.  As  though  there  dwelt  an  en 
chantment  in  the  very  sound  itself,  the  dark 
prairies  shifted  like  a  scene, 'and  in  their  stead 
he  saw,  in  a  cold  gray  twilight,  a  high  doorway 
built  of  a  cold  gray  stone,  .rough-hewed  and 


THE   LAND   OF   VISIONS  263 

heavy.  Through  its  arch  passed  then  a  file  of 
gray-cowled  monks,  their  faces  concealed. 
Each  carried  a  torch,  whose  flickering,  waver 
ing  light  cast  weird  cowled  figures  on  the  gray 
stone,  and  in  their  midst  was  borne  a  bier,  cov 
ered  with  white.  And  as  the  deep  bell  boomed 
on  through  all  the  vision,  like  a  subtle  thrilling 
presence,  Bennington  seemed  to  himself  to 
stand,  finger  on  lip,  the  eternal  custodian  of  the 
Secret  of  it  all — the  secret  that  each  of  these 
cowled  figures  was  a  Man — a  divine  soul  and  a 
body,  with  ears,  and  eyes,  and  a  brain;  that  he 
had  thoughts,  and  his  life  that  is  and  is  to  come 
was  of  these  thoughts;  that  there  beat  hearts  be 
neath  that  gray,  and  that  their  voices  must  not 
be  heeded;  that  in  the  morning  these  wearied 
eyes  awaited  but  the  eve,  and  that  the  evening 
brought  no  hope  fora  new  day;  that  these  silent, 
awesome  beings  lived  within  the  heavy  stones 
alone  with  monotony,  until  the  bell  tolled,  as 
now,  and  they  were  carried  through  the  arched 
doorway  into  the  night;  and,  above  all,  that  to 
each  there  were  sixty  minutes  in  the  hour,  and 
twenty-four  hours  in  the  day,  and  years  and 
years  of  these  days.  This  was  the  Secret,  and  he 


264  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

was  its  custodian.  None  of  the  others  knew 
of  it;  but  its  awfulness  made  him  sad  and  stern. 
He  checked  the  days,  he  numbered  the  hours, 
he  counted  the  minutes  rigorously  lest  one 
escape.  One  did  escape,  and  he  turned  back 
to  catch  it,  and  pursued  it  far  away  from  the 
stone  doorway  and  the  dull  twilight,  and  even 
the  sound  of  the  bell,  off  into  a  land  where 
there  were  many  hills  and  valleys,  among  which 
the  fugitive  Minute  hid  elusively.  And  he  pur 
sued  the  Minute,  calling  upon  it  to  come  to  him, 
and  the  name  by  which  he  called  it  was  Mary. 
Then  he  saw  that  the  square  of  the  window  had 
become  yellow  with  the  sun,  and  that  through 
it  he  could  hear  plainly  the  voices  of  the  Leslies 
talking  in  high  tones. 

His  brain  was  very  clear,  more  so  than  usual, 
and  he  not  only  received  many  impressions,  and 
ordered  them  with  ease  and  despatch,  but  his 
very  senses  seemed  more  than  ordinarily  acute. 
He  could  distinguish  even  by  day,  when  the 
night  stillness  had  withdrawn  its  favouring 
conditions,  the  borings  of  the  sawdust  insects 
in  the  logs  of  the  cabin.  Only  he  was  very 
tired.  His  hands  seemed  a  long  distance  away, 


THE   LAND  OF  VISIONS  265 

as  though  it  would  require  an  extraordinary 
effort  of  the  will  to  lift  them.  So  he  lay  quiet 
and  listened. 

The  conversation,  of  which  he  was  the  eaves 
dropper,  was  carried  on  by  fits  and  starts.  First 
a  sentence  would  be  delivered  by  one  of  the 
Leslies;  then  would  ensue  a  pause  as  though 
for  a  reply,  inaudible  to  any  but  the  interlocu 
tors  themselves;  then  another  sentence;  and  so 
on,  like  a  man  at  a  telephone.  After  a  moment's 
puzzling  over  it,  Bennington  understood  that 
Jim  Leslie  was  talking  to  one  of  the  prisoners 
down  the  shaft. 

'  You  have  the  true  sporting  spirit,  sir," 
cried  the  voice  of  Jeems.  "  I  honour  you  for  it. 
But  so  philosophical  a  resignation,  while  it  in 
clines  our  souls  to  know  more  of  you  personally, 
nevertheless  renders  you  much  less  interesting 
in  such  a  juncture  as  the  present.  I  would  like 
to  hear  from  Mr.  Davidson." 

Pause. 

"  That  was  a  performance,  Mr.  Davidson, 
which  I  can  not  entirely  commend.  It  is  fluent, 
to  be  sure,  but  it  lacks  variety.  A  true  artist 
would  have  interspersed  those  finer  shades  and 


266  THE  CLAIM  JUMPERS 

gradations  of  meaning  which  go  to  express  the 
numerous  and  clashing  emotions  which  must 
necessarily  agitate  your  venerable  bosom.  You 
surely  mean  more  than  damn.  Damn  is  express 
ive  and  forceful,  because  capable  of  being 
enunciated  at  one  explosive  effort  of  the  breath, 
but  it  is  monotonous  when  too  freely  employed. 
To  be  sure,  you  might  with  some  justice  reply 
that  you  had  qualified  said  adjective  strongly 
— but  the  qualification  was  trite  though  blas 
phemous.  And  you  limited  it  very  nicely — but 
the  limitation  to  myself  is  unjust,  as  it  over 
looks  my  brother's  equitable  claims  to  notice." 

Pause. 

"  I  beg  pardon!    Kindly  repeat!  " 

Pause. 

"Delicious!  Mr.  Davidson,  you  have  re 
deemed  yourself.  Bertie,  did  you  hear  Mr. 
Davidson's  last  remark?  " 

"  No!  "  replied  another  voice.  "  Couldn't 
be  bothered.  What  was  it?  " 

"  Mr.  Davidson,  with  a  polished  sarcasm 
that  amounted  to  genius,  advised  me  in  his 
picturesque  vernacular  '  t'  set  thet  jaw  of  mine 
goin',  and  then  go  away  an'  leave  it ! ' 


THE   LAND  OF  VISIONS  267 

Pause. 

"  I  beg  you,  Mr.  Slayton,  do  not  think  of 
such  a  thing.  I  would  not  have  him  repressed 
for  anything  in  the  world.  As  you  value  our 
future  acquaintanceship,  do  not  end  our  inter 
view.  Thank  you!  I  appreciate  your  compli 
ment,  and  in  return  will  repeat  that,  though  in 
a  pretty  sharp  game,  you  are  a  true  sport.  Our 
friend  Arthur  is  strangely  silent.  I  have  never 
met  Mr.  Arthur.  I  have  heard  that  either  his 
face  or  his  hat  looks  like  a  fried  egg,  but  I 
forget  for  the  moment  which  was  so  charac 
terized." 

Pause. 

"  Fie,  fie!  Mr.  Arthur.  Addison,  in  his  most 
intoxicated  moments,  would  never  have  used 
such  language." 

And  then  the  man  in  the  cabin,  lying  on  the 
bed,  began  to  laugh  in  a  low  tone.  His  laugh 
was  not  pleasant  to  hear.  He  was  realizing  how 
funny  things  were  to  other  people — things  that 
had  not  been  funny  to  him  at  all.  For  the  first 
time  he  caught  a  focus  on  his  father,  with  his 
pompous  pride  and  his  stilted  diction;  on  his 
mother's  social  creed.  He  cared  as  much  for 

18 


268  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

them  as  ever  and  his  respect  was  as  great,  but 
now  he  realized  that  outsiders  could  never 
understand  them  as  he  did,  and  that  always  to 
others  they  must  appear  ridiculous.  So  he 
laughed.  And,  too,  he  perceived  that  the  world 
would  see  something  grimly  humorous  in  his 
insistence  on  the  girl's  parentage,  when  all  the 
time,  in  the  home  to  which  he  was  to  bring  her, 
dwelt  these  unlovable,  snobbish  old  parents  of 
his  own.  So  he  laughed.  And  he  thought  of 
how  he  had  been  fooled,  and  played  with,  and 
duped,  and  cheated,  and  all  but  disgraced  by 
the  very  people  on  whom  he  had  looked  down 
from  a  fancied  superiority.  And  so  he  laughed. 
And  as  he  laughed  his  hands  swelled  up  to 
the  size  of  pillows,  and  he  thought  that  he  was 
dressed  in  a  loose  garment  spotted  all  over  with 
great  spots,  and  that  he  was  standing  on  a 
stage  before  these  grave,  silent  hillmen.  The 
light  came  in  through  a  golden-yellow  square 
just  behind  them.  In  the  front  row  sat  Mary, 
looking  at  him  with  wide-open,  trusting  eyes. 
And  he  was  revolving  these  hands  like  pillows 
around  each  other,  trying  to  make  the  sombre 
men  and  the  wistful  girl  laugh  with  him,  while 


THE    LAND   OF   VISIONS  269 

over  and  over  certain  words  slipped  in  between 
his  cachinnations,  like  stray  bird-notes  through 
a  rattle  of  drums. 

"  I  have  no  fresh  motley  for  my  lady's 
amusement,"  he  was  saying  to  her,  "  no  new 
philosophies  to  spread  out  for  my  lady's  inspec 
tion,  no  bright  pictures  to  display  for  my  lady's 
pleasure,  and  so  I,  like  a  poor  poverty-stricken 
minstrel  whose  harp  has  been  broken,  yet  dare 
beg  at  the  castle  gate  for  a  crumb  of  my  lady's 
bounty."  At  which  he  would  have  wept,  but 
could  only  laugh  louder  and  louder. 

Then  dimly  he  knew  again  he  was  in  his  own 
room,  and  he  felt  that  several  people  were  mov 
ing  back  and  forth  quickly.  He  tried  to  rise, 
but  could  not,  and  he  knew  that  he  was  slip 
ping  back  to  the  hall  and  the  solemn  crowd 
of  men.  He  did  not  want  to  go.  He  grasped 
convulsively  at  the  blanket  with  his  sound  hand, 
and  shrieked  aloud. 

"  I  am  sick!  I  am  sick!  I  am  sick!  "  he 
cried  louder  and  louder. 

Some  one  laid  a  cool  hand  on  his  forehead, 
and  he  lay  quiet  and  smiled  contentedly.  The 
room  and  the  people  became  wraithlike.  He 


270  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

saw  them  still,  but  he  saw  through  them  to  a 
reality  of  soft  meadows  and  summer  skies,  from 
which  Mary  leaned,  resting  her  hand  on  his 
brow.  Voices  spoke,  but  muffled,  as  though  by 
many  veils.  They  talked  of  various  things. 

"  It's  the  mountain  fever,"  he  heard  one  say. 
"  It's  a  wonder  he  escaped  it  so  long." 

Then  the  cool  hand  was  withdrawn  from  his 
brow,  and  inexorably  he  was  hurried  back  into 
the  land  of  visions. 


CHAPTER  XXII 


FLOWER    O?    THE   WORLD 


BENNINGTON  DE  LANEY  found  himself 
comfortably  in  bed,  listening  with  closed  eyes 
to  a  number  of  sounds.  Of  these  there  most 
impressed  him  two.  They  were  a  certain 
rhythmical  muffled  beat,  punctuated  at  inter 
vals  by  a  slight  rustling  of  paper;  and  a  series  of 
metallic  clicks,  softened  somewhat  by  distance. 
After  a  time  it  occurred  to  him  to  open  his  eyes. 
At  once  he  noticed  two  things  more — that  he 
had  some  way  acquired  fresh  white  sheets  for 
his  bed,  and  that  on  a  little  table  near  the  foot 
of  his  bunk  stood  a  vase  of  flowers.  These  two 
new  impressions  satisfied  him  for  some  time. 
He  brooded  over  them  slowly,  for  his  brain  was 
weak.  Then  he  allowed  his  gaze  to  wander  to 
the  window.  From  above  its  upper  sash  de 
pended  two  long  white  curtains  of  some  lacelike 
material,  freshly  starched  and  with  deep  edges, 
ruffled  slightly  in  a  pleasing  fashion.  They 

271 


2/2  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

stirred  slowly  in  the  warm  air  from  the  window. 
Bennington  watched  them  lazily,  breathing 
with  pleasure  the  balmy  smell  of  pine,  and  lis 
tening  to  the  sounds.  The  clinking  noises  came 
through  the  open  window.  He  knew  now  that 
they  meant  the  impact  of  sledge  on  drill.  Some 
one  was  drilling  somewhere.  His  glance  roved 
on,  and  rested  without  surprise  on  a  girl  in  a 
rocking  chair  swaying  softly  to  and  fro,  and 
reading  a  book,  the  turning  of  whose  leaves 
had  caused  the  rustling  of  paper  which  he  had 
noticed  first. 

For  a  long  time  he  lay  silent  and  contented. 
Her  fine  brown  hair  had  been  drawn  back 
smoothly  away  from  her  forehead  into  a  loose 
knot.  She  was  dressed  in  a  simple  gown  of 
white — soft,  and  resting  on  the  curves  of  her 
slender  figure  as  lightly  as  down  on  the  surface 
of  the  warm  meadows.  From  beneath  the  full 
skirt  peeped  a  little  slippered  foot,  which  tapped 
the  floor  rhythmically  as  the  chair  rocked  to 
and  fro.  Finally  she  glanced  up  and  discovered 
him  looking  at  her.  She  arose  and  came  to  the 
bedside,  her  finger  on  her  lips. 

"  You  mustn't  talk,"  she  said  sweetly,  a 


FLOWER   O'   THE   WORLD  273 

great  joy  in  her  eyes.  "  I'm  so  glad  you're 
better." 

She  left  the  room,  and  returned  in  a  little 
time  with  a  bowl  of  chicken  broth,  which  she 
fed  him  with  a  spoon.  It  tasted  very  good 
to  him,  and  he  felt  the  stronger  for  it,  but  as 
yet  his  voice  seemed  a  long  distance  away. 
When  she  turned  to  leave  the  room,  however, 
he  murmured  inarticulately  and  attempted  to 
stir.  She  came  back  to  the  bed  at  once. 

"  I'll  be  back  in  a  minute,"  she  said  gently, 
but  seeing  some  look  of  pleading  in  his  eyes,  she 
put  the  empty  bowl  and  spoon  on  the  little 
table  and  sat  down  on  the  floor  near  the  bed. 
He  smiled,  and  then,  closing  his  eyes,  fell  asleep 
— outside  the  borders  of  the  land  of  visions,  and 
with  the  music  of  a  woman's  voice  haunting 
the  last  moments  of  his  consciousness. 

After  the  fever  had  once  broken,  his  return 
to  strength  was  rapid.  Although  accompanied 
by  delirium,  and  though  running  its  full  course 
of  weeks,  the  "  mountain  fever  "  is  not  as  in 
tense  as  typhoid.  The  exhaustion  of  the  vital 
forces  is  not  as  great,  and  recuperation  is  easier. 
In  two  days  Bennington  was  sitting  up  in  bed, 


274  THE  CLAIM  JUMPERS 

possessed  of  an  appetite  that  threatened  to  de 
populate  entirely  the  little  log  chicken  coop. 
He  found  that  the  tenancy  of  the  camp  had 
materially  changed.  Mrs.  Lawton  and  Miss 
Fay  had  moved  in,  bag  and  baggage — but  with 
out  the  inquisitive  Maude,  Bennington  was 
glad  to  observe. 

Mrs.  Lawton,  in  the  presence  of  an  emer 
gency,  turned  out  to  be  helpful  in  every  way. 
She  knew  all  about  mountain  fevers  for  one 
thing,  and  as  the  country  was  not  yet  blessed 
with  a  doctor,  this  was  not  an  unimportant 
item.  Then,  too,  she  was  a  most  capable  house 
keeper — she  cooked,  marketed,  swept,  dusted, 
and  tyrannized  over  the  mere  men  in  a  manner 
to  be  envied  even  by  a  New  England  dame. 
Fay  and  the  Leslies  had  also  taken  up  their 
quarters  in  the  camp.  Old  Mizzou  and  the 
Arthurs  had  gone.  The  old  "  bunk  house  " 
now  accommodated  a  good-sized  gang  of 
miners,  who  had  been  engaged  by  Fay  to  do 
the  necessary  assessment  work.  Altogether  the 
camp  was  very  populous  and  lively. 

After  a  little  Bennington  learned  of  every 
thing  that  had  happened  during  the  three  weeks 


FLOWER   O'   THE   WORLD  275 

oi  his  sickness.  It  all  came  out  in  a  series  of 
charming  conversations,  when,  in  the  evening 
twilight,  they  gathered  in  the  room  where 
the  sick  man  lay.  Mary — as  Bennington  still 
liked  to  name  her — occupied  the  rocking  chair, 
and  the  three  young  men  distributed  themselves 
as  best  suited  them.  It  was  most  homelike  and 
resting.  Bennington  had  never  before  experi 
enced  the  delight  of  seeing  a  young  girl  about 
a  house,  and  he  enjoyed  to  the  utmost  the  deft 
little  touches  by  which  is  imparted  that  airily 
feminine  appearance  to  a  room;  or,  more  subtly, 
the  mere  spirit  of  daintiness  which  breathes 
always  from  a  woman  of  the  right  sort.  He  felt 
there  was  added  a  newer  and  calmer  element 
of  joy  to  his  love. 

During  the  first  period  of  his  illness,  then, 
Jim  Fay  and  the  Leslie  brothers  had  worked  en 
ergetically  relocating  the  claims,  while  Mrs. 
Lawton  and  Miss  Fay  had  taken  charge  of  the 
house.  By  the  end  of  the  first  day  the  job  was 
finished.  The  question  then  came  up  as  to  the 
disposition  of  the  prisoners. 

"  We  didn't  want  the  nuisance  of  a  prose 
cution,"  said  Fay,  "  because  that  would  mean 


276  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

that  these  mossbacks  could  drag  us  off  to  Rapid 
City  any  old  time  as  witnesses,  and  keep  us 
there  indefinitely.  Neither  did  we  want  to  let 
them  off  scot-free.  They'd  made  us  altogether 
too  much  trouble  for  that !  Bert  here  suggested 
a  very  simple  way  out.  I  went  down  to  Spanish 
Gulch  and  told  the  boys  the  whole  story  from 
start  to  finish.  Well,  it  isn't  hard  to  handle  a 
Western  crowd  if  you  go  at  it  right.  The  boys 
always  thought  you  had  good  stuff  in  you  since 
you  rode  the  horse  and  smashed  Leary's  face 
that  night.  It  would  have  been  easy  to  have 
cooked  up  all  kinds  of  trouble  for  our  precious 
gang,  but  I  managed  to  get  the  boys  in  a  frivo 
lous  mood,  so  they  merely  came  up  and 
had  fun." 

"  I  should  say  they  did!  "  Bert  interjected. 
"  They  dragged  the  crowd  out  of  the  shaft — 
and  they  were  a  tough-looking  proposition,  I 
can  tell  you! — and  stood  them  up  in  a  row. 
They  shaved  half  of  Davidson's  head  and  half 
his  beard,  on  opposite  sides.  They  left  tufts  of 
hair  all  over  Arthur.  They  made  a  six-pointed 
star  on  the  top  of  Slayton's  crown.  Then  they 
put  the  men's  clothes  on  wrong  side  before,  and 


FLOWER   O'   THE   WORLD  277 

tied  them  facing  the  rear  on  three  scrubby  little 
burros.  Then  the  whole  outfit  was  started 
toward  Deadwood.  The  boys  took  them  as 
far  as  Blue  Lead,  where  they  delivered  them 
over  to  the  gang  there,  with  instructions  to 
pass  them  along.  They  probably  got  to 
Deadwood.  I  don't  know  what's  become  of 
them  since." 

"I  think  it  was  cruel!"  put  in  Miss  Fay 
decidedly. 

"  Perhaps.  But  it  was  better  than  hang 
ing  them." 

"  What  became  of  Mrs.  Arthur?  "  asked  the 
invalid. 

"  I  shipped  her  to  Deadwood  with  a  little 
money.  Poor  creature!  It  would  be  a  good 
thing  for  her  if  her  husband  never  did  show 
up.  She'd  get  along  better  without  him." 

The  claims  located  and  the  sharpers  got  rid 
of,  Fay  proceeded  at  once  to  put  the  assessment 
work  under  way.  In  this,  his  long  Western 
experience,  and  his  intimate  acquaintance  with 
the  men,  stood  him  in  such  good  stead  that  he 
was  enabled  to  contract  the  work  at  a  cheaper 
rate  than  Bishop's  estimate. 


THE   CLAIM  JUMPERS 

"  I  wrote  to  Bishop,"  he  said,  "  and  told  him 
all  about  it.  In  his  answer,  which  I'll  show 
you,  he  took  all  the  blame  to  himself,  just  as  I 
anticipated  he  would,  and  he's  so  tickled  to 
death  over  the  showing  made  by  the  assays  that 
he's  coming  out  here  himself  to  see  about  de 
velopment.  So  I'm  afraid  you're  going  to  lose 
your  job." 

"  I'm  not  sorry  to  go  home.  But  I'm  sorry 
to  leave  the  Hills."  He  looked  wistfully 
through  the  twilight  toward  Mary's  slender 
figure,  outlined  against  the  window.  The  three 
men  caught  the  glance,  and  began  at  once  to 
talk  in  low  tones  to  each  other.  In  a  moment 
they  went  out.  Somehow,  on  returning  from 
the  land  of  visions,  Ben  found  that  the  world 
had  moved,  and  that  one  of  the  results  of  the 
movement  was  that  many  things  were  taken 
for  granted  by  the  little  community  of  four  who 
surrounded  him.  It  was  as  though  the  tangle 
had  unravelled  quietly  while  he  slept.  She 
leaned  toward  him  shyly,  and  whispered  some 
thing  to  his  ear.  He  smiled  contentedly. 

They  talked  then  long  and  comfortably  in 
the  dusk — about  how  the  Leslies  had  written 


FLOWER  O'   THE   WORLD  279 

the  letter,  how  much  trouble  she  had  taken 
to  conceal  her  real  identity,  and  all  the  rest. 

"  I  sent  Bill  Lawton  up  to  warn  your  camp 
the  first  day  I  met  you,"  said  she. 

"  Why,  I  remember!  "  he  cried.  "  He  was 
there  when  I  got  back." 

And  they  talked  on  of  their  many  ex 
periences,  in  the  fashion  of  lovers,  and  how 
they  had  come  to  care  for  each  other,  and 
when. 

"  I  made  up  my  mind  it  was  so  foolish  a 
joke,"  she  confessed,  "  that  I  determined  to  tell 
you  all  about  it.  You  remember  I  had  some 
thing  to  tell  you  at  the  Pioneer's  Picnic?  That 
was  it.  But  then  you  remember  the  girl  in 
the  train,  and  how,  when  she  looked  at  us,  you 
turned  away?  " 

"  I  remember  that  well  enough,"  replied 
Bennington.  "  But  what  has  that  to  do  with 
it?" 

"  It  was  a  perfectly  natural  thing  to  do, 
dearest.  I  see  that  plainly  enough  now.  But 
it  hurt  me  a  little  that  you  should  be  ashamed 
of  me  as  a  Western  girl,  and  I  made  up  my 
mind  to  test  you." 


2g0  THE   CLAIM   JUMPERS 

"  Why,  I  wasn't  thinking  of  that  at  all/* 
cried  Bennington.  "  I  was  just  ashamed  of  my 
clothes.  I  never  thought  of  you!  " 

She  reached  out  and  patted  his  hand.  "  I'm 
glad  to  hear  that,  Ben  dear,  after  all.  It  did 
hurt.  And  I  was  so  foolish.  I  thought  if  you 
were  ashamed  of  me,  you  would  never  stand  the 
thought  of  the  Lawtons.  So  I  did  not  tell  you 
the  truth  then,  but  resolved  to  test  you  in 
that  way." 

"Foolish  little  girl!"  said  he  tenderly. 
"  But  it  came  out  all  right,  didn't  it?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  sighed,  with  a  happy  gesture  of 
the  hands.  They  fell  silent. 

"  I  want  you  to  tell  me  something,  dear," 
said  Bennington  after  a  while.  "  You  needn't 
unless  you  want  to,  but  I've  thought  about  it  a 
great  deal." 

"  I  will  tell  you,  Ben,  anything  in  the  world. 
We  ought  to  be  frank  with  each  other  now, 
don't  you  think  so?  " 

"  I  don't  know  as  I  ought  to  say  anything 
about  it,  after  all,"  he  hesitated,  evidently  em 
barrassed.  "  But,  Mary,  you  know  you  have 
hinted  a  little  at  it  yourself.  You  remember 


FLOWER   O'   THE   WORLD  28 1 

you  said  something  once  about  losing  faith,  and 
being  made  hard,  and " 

She  took  both  his  hands  in  hers  and  drew 
them  closely  to  her  breast.  Although  he  could 
not  see  her  eyes  against  the  dusk,  he  knew  that 
she  was  looking  at  him  steadily. 

"  Listen  quietly,  Ben  dear,  and  I  will  tell 
you.  Before  I  came  out  here  I  thought  I  loved 
a  man,  and  he — well,  he  did  not  treat  me  well. 
I  had  trusted  him  and  every  one  else  implicitly 

until  the  very  moment  when I  felt  it  very 

much,  and  I  came  West  with  Jim  to  get  away 
from  the  old  scenes.  Now  I  know  that  it  was 
only  fascination,  but  it  was  very  real  then.  You 
do  not  like  that,  Ben,  do  you?  The  memory 
is  not  pleasant  to  me,  and  yet,"  she  said,  with 
a  wistful  little  break  of  the  voice,  "  if  it  hadn't 
been  for  that  I  would  not  have  been  the  woman 
I  am,  and  I  could  not  love  you,  dearest,  as  I 
do.  It  is  never  in  the  same  way  twice,  but  each 
time  something  better  and  higher  is  added  to 
it.  Oh,  my  darling,  I  do  love  you,  I  do  love  you 
so  much,  and  you  must  be  always  my  generous, 
poetic  boy,  as  you  are  now." 

She  strained  his  hands   to  her  as  though 


282  THE   CLAIM  JUMPERS 

afraid  he  would  slip  from  her  clasp.  "  All  that 
is  ideal  so  soon  hardens.  I  can  not  bear  to 
think  of  your  changing." 

Bennington  leaned  forward  and  their  lips 
met.  "  We  will  forgive  him,"  he  murmured. 

And  what  that  remark  had  to  do  with  it 
only  our  gentler  readers  will  be  able  to  say. 

Ah,  the  delicious  throbbing  silence  after  the 
first  kiss! 

"  What  was  your  decision  that  afternoon 
on  the  Rock,  Ben?  You  never  told  me."  She 
asked  presently,  in  a  lighter  tone,  "  Would  you 
have  taken  me  in  spite  of  my  family?  " 

He  laughed  with  faint  mischief. 

"  Before  I  tell  you,  I  want  to  ask  you  some 
thing,"  he  said  in  his  turn.  "  Supposing  I  had 
decided  that,  even  though  I  loved  you,  I  must 
give  you  up  because  of  my  duty  to  my  family 
— suppose  that,  I  say — what  would  you  have 
done?  Would  your  love  for  me  have  been  so 
strong  that  you  would  have  finally  confessed  to 
me  the  fact  that  the  Lawtons  were  not  your 
parents?  Or  would  you  have  thrown  me  over 
entirely  because  you  thought  I  did  not  love 
you  enough  to  take  you  for  yourself?  " 


FLOWER  O'  THE  WORLD  283 

She  considered  the  matter  seriously  for  some 
little  time. 

"  Ben,  I  don't  know,"  she  confessed  at  last 
frankly.  "  I  can't  tell." 

"  No  more  can  I,  sweetheart.  I  hadn't 
decided." 

She  puckered  her  brows  in  the  darkness  with 
genuine  distress.  Women  worry  more  than 
men  over  past  intangibilities.  He  smiled  com 
fortably  to  himself,  for  in  his  grasp  he  held,  un 
resisting,  the  dearest  little  hand  in  the  world. 
Outside,  the  ever-charming,  ever-mysterious 
night  of  the  Hills  was  stealing  here  and  there 
in  sighs  and  silences.  From  the  darkness  came 
the  high  sweet  tenor  of  Bert  Leslie's  voice  in 
the  words  of  a  song: 

"  A  Sailor  to  the  Sea,  a  Hunter  to  the  Pines, 

And  Sea  and  Pines  alike  to  joy  the  Rover, 
The  Wood-smells  to  the  nostrils  of  the  Lover  of  the 

Trail, 
And  Hearts  to  Hearts  the  whole  World  over !  " 

Through  and  through  the  words  of  the 
song,  like  a  fine  silver  wire  through  richer  cloth 

of   gold,    twined    the    long-drawn,    tremulous 
19 


284  THE  CLAIM  JUMPERb 

notes  of  the  white-throated  sparrow,  the  night 
ingale  of  the  North. 

''The  dear  old  Hills,"  he  murmured  ten 
derly.  "  We  must  come  back  to  them  often, 
sweetheart." 

"  I  wish,  I  wish  I  knew!  "  she  cried,  holding 
his  hand  tighter. 

"  Knew  what?  "  he  asked,  surprised. 

"What  you'd  have  done,  and  what  I'd 
have  done!  " 

"  Well,"  he  replied,  with  a  happy  sigh,  "  I 
know  what  I'm  going  to  do,  and  that's  quite 
enough  for  me." 


THE   END 


KATE  DOUGLAS  WIGGIN'S 
STORIES  OF  PURE  DELIGHT 

Full  of  originality  and   humor,   kindliness  and  cheer 

THE  OLD  PEABODY  PEW.  Large  Octavo.  Decorative 
text  pages,  printed  in  two  colors.  Illustrations  by  Alice 
Barber  Stephens. 

One  of  the  prettiest  romances  that  has  ever  come  from  this 
author's  pen  is  made  to  bloom  on  Christmas  Eve  in  the  sweet 
freshness  of  an  old  New  England  meeting  house. 

PENELOPE'S  PROGRESS.  Attractive  cover  design  in 
colors. 

Scotland  is  the  background  for  the  merry  doings  of  three  very 
clever  and  original  American  girls.  Their  adventures  in  adjusting 
themselves  to  the  Scot  and  his  land  are  full  of  humor. 

PENELOPE'S  IRISH  EXPERIENCES.  Uniformin  style 
with  "Penelope's  Progress." 

The  trio  of  clever  girls  who  rambled  over  Scotland  cross  the  bor 
der  to  the  Emerald  Isle,  and  again  they  sharpen  their  wits  against 
new  conditions,  and  revel  in  the  land  of  laughter  and  wit. 

REBECCA  OF  SUNNYBROOK  FARM. 

One  of  the  most  beautiful  studies  of  childhood— Rebecca's  artis 
tic,  unusual  and  quaintly  charming  qualities  stand  cut  midst  a  circle 
of  austere  New  Englanders.  The  stage  version  is  making  a  phe 
nomenal  dramatic  record. 

NEW  CHRONICLES  OF  REBECCA.  With  illustrations 
byF.  CYohn. 

Some  more  quaintly  amusing  chronicles  that  carry  Rebecca 
through  various  stages  to  her  eighteenth  birthday. 

ROSE   O>  THE  RIVER.     With  illustrations  by  George 

Wright. 

The  simple  story  of  Rose,  a  country  girl  and  Stephen  a  sturdy 
young  farmer,  The  girl's  fancy  for  a  city  man  interrupts  their  love 
and  merges  the  story  into  an  emotional  strain  where  the  reader  fol 
lows  the  events  with  rapt  attention. 

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CYNTHIA'S     CHAUFFEUR.  Illustrated  by  Howard  Chandler 
Christy. 

A  pretty  American  girl  in  London  is  touring  in  a  car  with 
tt  chauffeur  whose  identity  puzzles  her.  An  amusing  mystery. 

THE    STOWAWAY    GIRL.     Illustrated  by  Nesbitt  Benson. 

A  shipwreck,  a  lovely  girl  stowaway,  a  rascally  captain,  a 
fascinating  officer,  and  thrilling  adventures  in  South  Seas. 

THE  CAPTAIN  OF  THE  KANSAS. 

Love  and  the  salt  sea,  a  helpless  ship  whirled  into  the  hands 
of  cannibals,  desperate  fighting  and  a  tender  romance. 

THE     MESSAGE.    Illustrated  by  Joseph  Cummings  Chase. 

A  bit  of  parchment  found  in  the  figurehead  of  an  old  ves 
sel  tells  of  a  buried  treasure.  A  thrilling  mystery  develops. 

THE  PILLAR  OF  LIGHT. 

The  pillar  thus  designated  was  a  lighthouse,  and  the  author 
tells  with  exciting  detail  the  terrible  dilemma  of  its  cut-off  in 
habitants. 

THE    WHEEL   O'FORTUNE.     With  illustrations   by  James 
Montgomery  Flagg. 

The  story  deals  with  the  finding  of  a  papyrus  containing 
the  particulars  of  some  of  the  treasures  of  the  Queen  of  Sheba. 

A    SON  OF   THE   IMMORTALS.      Illustrated     by    Howard 
Chandler  Christy. 

A  young  American  is  proclaimed  king  of  a  little  Balkan 
Kingdom,  and  a  pretty  Parisian  art  student  is  the  power  behind 
the  throne. 

THE    WINGS    OF  THE  MORNING. 

A  sort  of  Robinson  Crusoe  redivivus  with  modern  settings 
and  a  very  pretty  love  story  added.  The  hero  and  aeroine,  are 
the  only  survivors  of  a  wreck,  and  have  many  thrilling  adventures 
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MADAME  X.     By  Alexandre  Bisson  and  J.  W.  McCon- 
aughy.      Illustrated    with    scenes    from    the    play. 

A  beautiful  Parisienne  became  an  outcast  because  her  hus 
band  would  not  forgive  an  error  of  her  youth.  Her  love  for 
her  son  is  the  great  final  influence  in  her  career.  A  tremen 
dous  dramatic  success. 

THE  GARDEN  OF  ALLAH.    By  Robert  Hichens. 

An  unconventional  English  woman  and  an  inscrutable 
stranger  meet  and  love  in  an  oasis  of  the  Sahara.  Staged 
this  season  with  magnificent  cast  and  gorgeous  properties. 

THE  PRINCE  OF  INDIA.    By  Lew.  Wallace. 

A  glowing  romance  of  the  Byzantine  Empire,  presenting 
with  extraordinary  power  the  siege  of  Constantinople,  and 
lighting  its  tragedy  with  the  warm  underglow  of  an  Oriental 
romance.  As  a  play  it  is  a  great  dramatic  spectacle. 

TESS   OF    THE    STORM    COUNTRY.      By  Grace 
Miller  White.     Illust.  by  Howard  Chandler  Christy. 
A  girl  from  the  dregs  of  society,  loves  a  young  Cornell  Uni 
versity  student,  and  it  works  startling  changes  in  her  life  and 
the  lives  of  those  about  her.    The  dramatic  version  is  one  of 
the  sensations  of  the  season. 

YOUNG    WALLINGFORD.      By  George    Randolph 

Chester.     Illust.  by  F.  R.  Gruger  and  Henry  Raleigh. 

A  series  of  clever  swindles  conducted  by  a  cheerful  young 

man,  each  of  which  is  just  on  the  safe  side  of  a  State's  prison 

offence.    As  "Get-Rich-Quick  Wallingford,"  it  is  probably 

the  most  amusing  expose  of  money  manipulation  ever  seen 

on  the  stage. 

THE  INTRUSION   OF  JIMMY.    By  P.  G.  Wode- 

house.     Illustrations  by  Will  Grefe. 
Social  and  club  life  in  London  and  New  York,  an  amateur 
burglary  adventure  and  a  love  story.     Dramatized  under  the 
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THE  RULES  OF  THE  GAME.  Illustrated  by  Lajaren  A.  Killer 

The  romance  of  the  son  of  "The  Rivennan."  The  young  college 
hero  goes  into  the  lumber  camp,  is  antagonized  by  "graft"  and  comes 
into  the  romance  of  his  life. 
ARIZONA  NIGHTS.  Illus.  and  cover  inlay  by  N.  C.  Wyeth. 

A  series  of  spirited  tales  emphasizing  some  phases  of  the  life 
of  the  ranch,  plains  and  desert.    A  masterpiece. 
THE  BLAZED   TRAIL.  With  illustiations  by  Thomas  Fogarty. 

A  wholesome  story  with  gleams  of  humor,  telling  of  a  young 
man  who  blazed  his  way  to  fortune  through  the  heart  of  the  Mich 
igan  pines. 
THE  CLAIM  JUMPERS.    A  Romance. 

The  tenderfoot  manager  of  a  mine  in  a  lonesome  gulch  of  the 
Black  Hills  has  a  hard  tune  of  it,  but  *'wins  out"  in  more  ways  than 
one. 
CONJUROR'S     HOUSE.    Illustrated  Theatrical  Edition. 

Dramatized  under   the     title   of  "The    Call  of    the    North." 

"Conjuror's  House  is  a  Hudson  Bay  trading  post  where  the 
head  factor  is  the  absolute  lord.  A  young  fellow  risked  his  life  and 
won  a  bride  on  this  forbidden  land. 

THE  MAGIC   FOREST.    A  Modern  Fairy  Tale.    Illustrated. 

The  sympathetic  way  in  which  the  children  of  the  wild  and 
their  life  is  treated  could  only  belong  to  one  who  is  in  love  with  the 
forest  and  open  air.    Based  on  fact. 
THE  RIVERMAN.    Illus.  by  N.  C.  Wyeth  and  C.  Underwood. 

The  story  of  a  man's  fight  against  a  river  and  of  a  struggle 
between  honesty  and  grit  on  the  one  side,  and  dishonesty  and 
shrewdness  on  the  other. 
THE  SILENT  PLACES.  Illustrations  by  Philip  R.  Goodwin. 

The  wonders  of  the  northern  forests,  the  heights  of  feminine 
devotion,  and  masculine  power,  the  intelligence  of  the  Caucasian 
and  the  instinct  of  the  Indian,  are  all  finely  drawn  in  this  story. 
THE  WESTERNERS. 

A  story  of  the  Black  Hills  that  is  justly  placed  among  the 
best  American  novels.  It  portrays  the  life  of  the  new  West  as  no 
other  book  has  done  in  recent  years. 

THE    MYSTERY.  In  collaboration  with  Samuel  Hopkins  Adams 
With  illustrations  by  Will  Crawford. 

The  disappearance  of  three  successive  crews  from  the  stout 
ship  "Laughing  Lass"  in  mid-Pacific,  is  a  mystery  weird  and  inscrut 
able.  In  the  solution,  there  is  a  story  of  the  most  exciting  voyage 
that  man  ever  undertook. 

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HIS   HOUR.    By  Elinor  Glyn.    Illustrated. 

A  beautiful  blonde  Englishwoman  visits  Russia,  and  is  vio 
lently  made  love  to  by  a  young  Russian  aristocrat.  A  most  unique 
situation  complicates  the  romance. 

THE    GAMBLERS.      By  Charles  Klein  and  Arthur  Hornblow. 
Illustrated  by  C.  E.  Chambers. 

A  big,  vital  treatment  of  a  present  day  situation  wherein  men 
play  for  big  financial  stakes  and  women  flourish  on  the  profits — or 
repudiate  the  methods. 

CHEERFUL  AMERICANS.    By  Charles  Battell  Loomis.    Illus 
trated  by  Florence  Scovel  Shinn  and  others. 

A  good,  wholesome,  laughable  presentation  of  some  Americans 
at  home  and  abroad,  on  their  vacations,  and  during  their  hours  of 
relaxation. 

THE  WOMAN  OF  THE  WORLD.    By  Ella  Wheeler  Wilcox. 

Clever,  original  presentations  of  present  day  social  problems 
and  the  best  solutions  of  them.  A  book  every  girl  and  woman 
should  possess. 

THE    LIGHT  THAT  LURES.    By  Percy  Brebner. 
Illustrated.     Handsomely  colored  wrapper. 

A  young  Southerner  who  loved  Lafayette,  goes  to  France  to 
aid  him  during  the  days  of  terror,  and  is  lured  in  a  certain  direction 
by  the  lovely  eyes  of  a  Frenchwoman. 

THE  RAMRODDERS.        By  Holman  Day.      Frontispiece  by 
Harold  Matthews  Brett. 

A  clever,  timely  story  that  will  make  politicians  think  and  will 
make  women  realize  the  part  that  politics  play — even  in  their 
romances. 

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A   CERTAIN    RICH   MAN.    By  William  Allen  White. 

A  vivid,  startling  portrayal  of  one  man's  financial  greed,  its 
wide  spreading  power,  its  action  in  Wall  Street,  and  its  effect  on 
the  three  women  most  intimately  in  his  life.  A  splendid,  enter 
taining  American  novel. 

IN    OUR    TOWN.    By  William  Allen  White.    Illustrated  by  F 
R.  Gruger  and  W.  Glackens. 

Made  up  of  the  observations  of  a  keen  newspaper  editor, 
involving  the  town  millionaire,  the  smart  set,  the  literary  set,  the 
bohemian  set,  and  many  others.  All  humorously  related  and  sure 
to  hold  the  attention. 

NATHAN  BURKE.    By  Mary  S.  Watts. 

The  siory  of  an  ambitious,  backwoods  Ohio  boy  who  rose 
to  prominence.  Everyday  humor  of  American  rustic  life  per 
meates  the  book. 

THE  HIGH    HAND.    By  Jacques     utrelle.    Illustrated  by  Will 
Grefe. 

A  splendid  story  of  the  political  game,  with  a  son  of  the 
soil  on  the  one  side,  and  a  "kid  glove"  politician  on  the  other. 
A  pretty  girl,  interested  in  both  men,  is  the  chief  figure. 

THE  BACKWOODSMEN.  By  Charles  G.  D.  Roberts.  Illustrated. 
Realistic  stories  of  men  and  women  living  midst  the  savage 
beauty  of  the  wilderness.     Human  nature    at  its  best  and    worst 
is  well  protrayed. 

YELLO WSTONE  NIGHTS.    By  Herbert  Quick. 

A  jolly  company  of  six  artists,  writers  and  other  clever 
folks  take  a  trip  through  the  National  Park,  and  tell  stories  around 
camp  fire  at  night.  Brilliantly  clever  and  original. 

THE  PROFESSOR'S  MYSTERY.      By    Wells    Hastings   and 
Brian  Hooker.     Illustrated  by  Hanson  Booth. 

A  young  college  professor,  missing  his  steamer  for  Europe, 
has  a  romantic  meeting  with  a  pretty  girl,  escorts  her  home,  and 
is  enveloped  in  a  big  mystery. 

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THE  SIEGE  OF  THE  SEVEN  SUITORS.    By  Meredith  Nich 
olson.    Illustrated  by  C.  Coles  Phillips  and  Reginald  Birch. 

Seven  suitors  vie  with  each  other  for  the  love  of  a  beautiful 
girl,  and  she  subjects  them  to  a  test  that  is  fnll  of  mystery,  magic 
and  sheer  amusement. 

THE  MAGNET.    By  Henry  C.Rowland.    Illustrated  by  Clarence 
F.  Underwood. 

The  story  of  a  remarkable  courtship  involving  three  pretty 
girls  on  a  yacht,  a  poet -lover  in  pursuit,  and  a  mix-up  in  the  names 
of  the  girls. 

THE  TURN  OF  THE  ROAD.  By  Eugenia  Brooks  Frothingham. 
A  beautiful  young  opera  singer  chooses  professional  success 
instead  of  love,  but  comes  to  a  place  in  life  where  the  call  of  the 
heart  is  stronger  than  worldly  success. 

SCOTTIE  AND  HIS  LADY.     By  Margaret  Morse.    Illustrated 
by  Harold  M.  Brett. 

A  young  girl  whose  affections  have  been  blighted  is  presented 
with  a  Scotch  Collie  to  divert  her  mind,  and  the  roving  adventures 
of  her  pet  lead  the  young  mistress  into  another  romance. 

SHEILA  VEDDER.    By  Amelia  E.  Barr.    Frontispiece  by  Harri 
son  Fisher. 

A  very  beautiful  romance  of  the  Shetland  Islands,  with  a 
handsome,  strong  willed  hero  and  a  lovely  girl  of  Gaelic  blood  as 
heroine.  A  sequel  to  "Jan  Vedder's  Wife." 

JOHN  WARD.  PREACHER.    By  Margaret  Deland. 

The  first  big  success  of  this  much  loved  American  novelist. 
It  is  a  powerful  portrayal  of  a  young  clergyman's  attempt  to  win  his 
beautiful  wife  to  his  own  narrow  creed. 

THE    TRAIL  OF    NINETY-EIGHT.    By  Robert  W.  Service. 
Illustrated  by  Maynard  Dixon. 

One  of  the  best  stories  of  "Vagabondia  "  ever  written,  and 
one  of  the  most  accurate  and  picturesque  of  the  stampede  of  gold 
seekers  to  the  Yukon.  The  love  story  embedded  in  the  narrative 
is  strikingly  original, 

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THE  SILENT  CALL.    By    Edwin    Milton   Royle.      Illustrated 
with  scenes  from  the  play. 

The  hero  of  this  story  is  the  Squaw  Man's  son.  He  has 
been  taken  to  England,  but  spurns  conventional  life  for  the  sake 
of  the  untamed  West  and  a  girl's  pretty  face. 

JOHN  MARCH,    SOUTHERNER.    By  George  W.  Cable. 

A  story  of  the  pretty  women  and  spirited  men  of  the  South. 
As  fragrant  in  sentiment  as  a  sprig  of  magnolia,  and  as  full  of 
mystery  and  racial  troubles  as  any  romance  of  "after  the  war" 
days. 

MR.  JUSTICE  RAFFLES.    By  E.  W.  Hornung. 

This  engaging  rascal  is  found  helping  a  young  cricket  player 
out  of  the  toils  of  a  money  shark.  Novel  in  plot,  thrilling  and 
amusing. 

FORTY  MINUTES  LATE.  By  F.  Hopkinson  Smith.  Illustrated 
by  S.  M.  Chase. 

Delightfully  human  stories  of  every  day  happenings;  of  a 
lecturer's  laughable  experience  because  he's  late,  a  young  woman's 
excursion  into  the  stock  market,  etc. 

OLD  LADY  NUMBER  31.    By  Louise  Forsslund. 

A  heart- warming  story  of  American  rural  life,  telling  of  the 
adventures  of  an  old  couple  in  an  old  folk's  home,  their  sunny, 
philosophical  acceptance  of  misfortune  and  ultimate  prosperity. 

THE  HUSBAND'S  STORY.    By  David  Graham  Phillips. 

A  story  that  has  given  all  Europe  as  well  as  all  America  much 
food  for  thought.  A  young  couple  begin  life  in  humble  circum 
stances  and  rise  in  worldly  matters  until  the  husband  is  enormously 
rich — the  wife  in  the  most  aristocratic  European  society — but  at  the 
price  of  their  happiness. 

THE  TRAIL  OF  NINETY- EIGHT.      By  Robert  W.  Service. 
Illustrated  by  Maynard  Dixon. 

One  of  the  best  stories  of  "Vagabondia"  ever  written,  and 
one  of  the  most  accurate  and  picturesque  descriptions  of  the  stam 
pede  of  gold  seekers  to  the  Yukon.  The  love  story  embedded  in 
the  narrative  is  strikingly  original. 

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THE  NOVELS  OF 

WINSTON  CHURCHILL1 

Skillful  in  plot,    dramatic  in    episode,    powerful  and  original  in  climax. 

MR.  CREWE'S  CAREER.  Illus.  by  A.I.  Keller  and  Kinneys. 

A  New  England  state  is  under  the  political  domination 
of  a  railway  and  Mr.  Crewe,  a  millionaire,  seizes  the  moment 
when  the  cause  of  the  people  against  corporation  greed  is 
being  espoused  by  an  ardent  young  attorney,  to  further  his 
own  interest  in  a  political  way,  by  taking  up  this  cause. 

The  daughter  of  the  railway  president,  with  the  sunny 
humor  and  shrewd  common  sense  of  the  New  England  girl, 
plays  no  small  part  in  the  situation  as  well  as  in  the  life  of  the 
young  attorney  who  stands  so  unflinchingly  for  clean  politics. 
THE  CROSSING.  Illus.  by  S.  Adamson  and  L.  Baylis. 

Describing  the  battle  of  Fort  Moultrie  and  the  British 
fleet  in  the  harbor  of  Charleston,  the  blazing  of  the  Kentucky 
wilderness,  the  expedition  of  Clark  and  his  handful  of  daunt 
less  followers  in  Illinois,  the  beginning  of  civilization  along 
the  Ohio  and  Mississippi,  and  the  treasonable  schemes  builded 
against  Washington  and  the  Federal  Government. 
CONISTON.  Illustrated  by  Florence  Scovel  Shinn. 

A  deft  blending  of  love  and  politics  distinguishes  this 
book.  The  author  has  taken  for  his  hero  a  New  Englander, 
a  crude  man  of  the  tannery,  who  rose  to  political  prominence 
by  his  own  powers,  and  then  surrendered  all  for  the  love  of  a 
woman. 

It  is  a  sermon  on  civic  righteousness,  and  a  love  story  of  a 
deep  motive. 
THE  CELEBRITY.    An  Episode. 

An  inimitable  bit  of  comedy  describing  an  interchange  of 
personalities  between  a  celebrated  author  and  a  bicycle  sales 
man  of  the  most  blatant  type.  The  story  is  adorned  with 
some  character  sketches  more  living  than  pen  work.  It  is  the 
purest,  keenest  fun — no  such  piece  of  humor  has  appeared  for 
years:  it  is  American  to  the  core. 
THE  CRISIS.  Illus.  by  Howard  Chandler  Christy. 

A  book  that  presents  the  great  crisis  in  our  national  life 
with  splendid  power  and  with  a  sympathy,  a  sincerity,  and  a 
patriotism  that  are  inspiring.  The  several  scenes  in  the  book 
in  which  Abraham  Lincoln  figures  must  be  read  in  their  en 
tirety  for  they  give  a  picture  of  that  great,  magnetic,  lovable 
man,  which  has  been  drawn  with  evident  affection  and  excep 
tional  success. 

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THE     SECOND     WIFE.    By  Thompson  Buchanan.  Illustrated 
by  W.  W.  Fawcett.    Harrison  Fisher  wrapper  printed  in  four 

Colors  and  gold. 

An  intensely  interesting  story  of  a  marital  complication  in 

a   wealthy    New    York    family    involving    the    happiness    of    a 

beautiful  young  girl. 

TESS  OF  THE  STORM  COUNTRY.    By  Grace  Miller  White. 
Illustrated  by  Howard  Chandler  Christy. 
An  amazingly  vivid    picture  of    low    class      life  in    a   New 

York  college  town,  with  a  heroine  beautiful  and  noble,  who  makes 

a  great  sacrifice  for  love. 

FROM  THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  MISSING.    By  Grace  Miller 
White, 
Frontispiece  and  wrapper  in  colors  by  Penrhyn  Stanlaws. 

Another  story  of  "the  storm  country."  Two  beautiful  chil 
dren  are  kidnapped  from  a  wealthy  home  and  appear  many  years 
after  showing  the  effects  of  a  deep,  malicious  scheme  behind 
their  disappearance. 

THE    LIGHTED    MATCH.      By  Charles  Neville  Buck.    Illus 
trated  by  R.  F.  Schabelitz. 

A  lovely  princess  travels  incognito  through  the  States  and 
falls  in  love  with  an  American  man.  There  are  ties  that  bind  her 
to  someone  in  her  own  home,  and  the  great  plot  revolves  round 
her  efforts  to  work  her  way  out. 

MAUD    BAXTER.    By  C.    C.    Hotchkiss.    Illustrated  by  Will 
Grefe. 

A  romance  both  daring  and  delightful,  involving  an  Amer 
ican  girl  and  a  young  man  who  had  been  impressed  into  English 
service  during  the  Revolution. 

THE    HIGHWAYMAN.    By   Guy    Rawlence.     Illustrated   by 
Will  Grefe. 

A  French  beauty  of  mysterious  antecedents  wins  the  love 
of  an  Englishman  of  title.  Developments  of  a  startling  character 
and  a  clever  untangling  of  affairs  hold  the  reader's  iuterest. 

THE    PURPLE    STOCKINGS.      By  Edward  Salisbury    Field. 
Illustrated  in  colors;  marginal  illustrations. 

A  young  New  York  business  man,  his  pretty  sweetheart, 
his  sentimental  stenographer,  and  his  fashionable  sister  are  all 
mixed  up  in  a  misunderstanding  that  surpasses  anything  in  the 
way  of  comedy  in  years.  A  story  with  a  laugh  on  every  page. 

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THE  MASTERLY  AND  REALISTIC  NOVELS  OF 

FRANK  NORRIS 

Handsomely  bound  in  cloth.     Price,  75  cents  per  volume,  postpaid. 

THE  OCTOPUS.    A  Story  of  California 

Mr.  Norris  conceived  the  ambitious  idea  of  writing  a  trilogy  of 
novels  which,  taken  together,  shall  symbolize  American  life  as  a 
wuole,  with  all  its  hopes  and  aspirations  and  its  tendencies,  through 
out  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  continent.  And  for  the  central 
symbol  he  has  taken  wheat,  as  being  quite  literally  the  ultimate 
source  of  American  power  and  prosperity.  7"he  Octopus  is  a  story  of 
wheat  raising  and  railroad  greed  in  California.  It  immediately  made 
a  place  for  itself. 

It  is  full  of  enthusiasm  and  P9etry  and  conscious  strength.      One 
cannot  read  it  without  a  responsive  thrill  of  sympathy  for  the  earnest 
ness,  the  breadth  of  purpose,  the  verbal  power  of  the  man. 
THE  PIT.    A  Story  of  Chicago. 

This  powerful  novel  is  the  fictitious  narrative  of  a  deal  in  the  Chi 
cago  wheat  pit  and  holds  the  reader  from  the  beginning.  In  a  masterly 
way  the  author  has  grasped  the  essential  spirit  of  the  great  city  by  the 
lakes.  The  social  existence,  the  gambling  in  stocks  and  produce,  the 
characteristic  life  in  Chicago,  form  a  background  for  an  exceedingly 
vigorous  and  human  tale  of  modern  life  and  love. 

A  MAN'S  WOMAN. 

A  story  which  has  for  a  heroine  a  girl  decidedly  out  of  the  ordinary 
run  of  fiction.  It  is  most  dramatic,  containing  some  tremendous  pic 
tures  of  the  daring  of  the  men  who  are  trying  to  reach  the  Pole  *  *  * 
but  it  is  at  the  same  time  essentially  a  woman's  book,  and  the  story 
works  itself  out  in  the  solution  of  a  difficulty  that  is  continually  pre 
sented  in  real  life — the  wife's  attitude  in  relation  to  her  husband  when 
both  have  well-defined  careers. 

McTEAGUE.    A  Story  of  San  Francisco. 

"  Since  Bret  Harte  and  the  Forty-niner  no  one  has  written  of  Cali 
fornia  life  with  the  vigor  and  accuracy  of  Mr.  Norris.  His  *  McTeague* 
settled  his  right  to  a  place  in  American  literature ;  and  he  has  now 
presented  a  third  novel,  •  Blix,'  which  is  in  some  respects  the  finest 
and  likely  to  be  the  most  popular  of  the  three." — Washington  Times. 

BL'X. 

"  Frank  Norris  has  written  in  « Blix '  just  what  such  a  woman's  name 
would  imply — a  story  of  a  frank,  fearless  girl  comrade  to  all  men  who 
are  true  and  honest  because  she  is  true  and  honest.  How  she  saved 
the  man  she  fishes  and  picnics  with  in  a  spirit  of  outdoor  platonic  friend 
ship,  makes  a  pleasant  story,  and  a  perfect  contrast  to  the  author's 
'McTeague.'  A  splendid  and  successful  story."—  Washington 
Times. 

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NEW  EDITIONS  OF  THE  MOST  POPULAR  NOVELS  OF 

HALLIE  ERMINIE  RIVES 

Handsomely  bound  in  doth.     Price,  75  cents  per  volume,  postpaid. 

SATAN  SANDERSON.      With  halftone  illustrations  by  A.  B. 
Wenzell,  and  inlay  cover  in  colors. 

From  the  heroic  figures  of  the  American  Revolution  and  the  ro 
mantic  personage  of  Byron's  day,  Miss  Rives  has  turned  to  the  here 
and  now.  And  in  the  present  she  finds  for  her  immense  and  brilliant 
talent  a  tale  as  dramatic  and  enthralling  as  any  of  the  storied  past. 
The  career  of  the  Rev.  Harry  Sanderson,  known  as  "  Satan  "  in  his 
college  days,  who  sowed  the  wind  to  reap  the  whirlwind  and  won  at 
last  through  strangest  penance  the  prize  of  love,  seizes  the  reader  in 
the  strait  grip  of  its  feverish  interest.  Miss  Rives  has  outdone  her 
self  in  the  invention  of  a  love  story  that  rings  with  lyric  feeling  and 
touches  every  fiber  of  the  heart  with  strength  and  beauty. 

THE  CASTAWAY.    With  illustrations  in  colors  by  Howard 
Chandler  Christy. 

The  book  takes  its  title  from  a  saying  of  Lord  Byron's :  "  Three 
great  men  ruined  in  one  year — a  king,  a  cad,  and  a  castaway."  The 
king  was  Napoleon.  The  cad  was  Beau  Brummel.  And  the  castaway, 
crowned  with  genius,  smutched  with  slander,  illumined  by  fame — was 
Lord  Byron  himself !  This  is  the  romance  of  his  loves — the  strange 
marriage  and  still  stranger  separation,  the  riotous  passions,  the  final 
ennobling  affection — from  the  day  when  he  awoke  to  find  himself  the 
most  famous  man  in  England,  till,  a  self-exiled  castaway,  he  played 
out  his  splendid  death-scene  in  the  struggle  for  Greek  freedom. 

"  Suffused  with  the  rosy  light  of  romance." — New  York  Times. 

HEARTS  COURAGEOUS.  With  illustrations  by  A.  B. Wenzell. 

M  Hearts  Courageous"  is  made  of  new  material,  a  picturesque  yet 
delicate  style,  good  plot  and  very  dramatic  situations.  The  best  in 
the  book  are  the  defense  of  George  Washington  by  the  Marquis  ;  tha 
duel  between  the  English  officer  and  the  Marquis ;  and  Patrick  Henry 
flinging  the  brand  of  war  into  the  assembly  of  the  burgesses  of  Virginia. 
Williamsburgh,  Virginia,  the  country  round  about,  and  the  life  led  in 
that  locality  just  before  the  Revolution,  form  an  attractive  setting  for 
the  action  of  the  story. 

THE  RECKONING.    By  Robert  W.  Chambers.   With  illustra 
tions  by  Henry  Hutt. 

Mr.  Chambers  has  surpassed  himself  in  telling  the  tale  of  the  love 
of  Cams  Renault  and  Lady  Elsin  Grey  in  this  historical  novel  of  the 
last  days  of  the  Revolutionary  War.  Never  was  there  dainter  heroine 
or  more  daring  hero.  Never  did  the  honor  of  a  great-hearted  gentle 
man  triumph  to  such  an  extent  over  the  man.  Never  were  there 
dainter  love  passages  in  the  midst  of  war.  It  is  a  book  to  make  the 
pulses  throb  and  the  heart  beat  high. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  Publishers,         -         -         New  York 


IB 

14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWE1 , 
LOAN  DEPT. 


Renewe 


on 
d  books  are  subject  to  immed,ate  recall. 


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University  of  California 

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